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| To the Black Hair |
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And oh, to see you sitting there Your face a hidden curve. And oh to dream, to sit and stare But not to have the nerve. And oh to watch the light grow dim And drown his only hope. And oh to watch the tease of him, The Dreamer Misanthrope. And oh his arms are open wide. Go hold him. Think not twice That one is all he has to hide, His secret sin and vice. And oh he poked from 'neath his shell His eyes them opened wide. He called for you that night he fell And kissed you when he died. |