And when the soul aspired for better things,
Disturbed by voices calling past the Dawn,
I hoped your troubled eyes would seek my eyes.
And in those days that I have cried for you
And went uncomforted, had you returned,
I could have washed your guilty feet with tears,
And unto you still grown, and gone thro’ sun
And gloom beside you, holding in my arms
Hope’s hostage children, while I gladly felt
The keen captivity of love re-wake