All the dewy tender breath
Idly falls when life is done
On the starless brow of death.
All the dewy tender breath
Idly falls when life is done
On the starless brow of death.
Oh, must we use the iron hand,
And mask with hate the holy breath,
With alien voice give love's command,
As they through love the call of death?
A myriad lovers died for me, and in their latest yielded breath
I woke in glory giving them immortal life though touched by death.
When in their councils over all
Men set the power that sells and buys,
Be sure the price of life will fall,
Death be more precious in our eyes.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories