Alas!
|
That I shall now die,
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Not for deed or belief;
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All I've been is glory,
|
Fear shall not embrace me.
|
|
Behold!
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That I'm not for this,
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Nor my mouth says of grief;
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Kingdom for heartfelt love,
|
Passed are all that was formal.
|
|
Now is the winter of my discontent,
|
Made glorious by this sun of north;
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All the clouds that lowered upon me,
|
Are fallen and deep snow buried.
|
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Now is the winter of my discontent,
|
Made glorious by this sun of north;
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Of forest that scent of pine refines,
|
At heavens caress the white that alights.
|
|
-----------------
|
Winter Of My Discontent
|
| Immortal Souls |
