I felt you, tremulant, reprove
That the watered stuff my Lord
That I am a fool, since I
They will bring the trophies home
Move forward, run my hand around the font.
This special shell? For, though I've no idea
Except the dream that's almost dead today.
Then, with inviolate curve, forsake our eyes
Bound am I by ne'er a bond,
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
I felt you, tremulant, reprove
That the watered stuff my Lord
That I am a fool, since I
They will bring the trophies home
Move forward, run my hand around the font.
This special shell? For, though I've no idea
Except the dream that's almost dead today.
Then, with inviolate curve, forsake our eyes
Bound am I by ne'er a bond,
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets