theatre of tragedy – mire lyrics
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harken! – teh clouds mustered in dark –
so painfully easing.
hush! – hearest ye the yew doting;
its years of yore in a mïre,
each like a corpse within its grave;
wrought for us a yearn of lief;
’tis not a lore of bale nor loathe;
harmony and aesthesia are its blisses;
ne’er hath it exist’d so sonorously –
jostl’d away the pale drape
that us had been o’erhung –
tempt’d thy shutters to open
and thus quench’d the hearth;
thou giv’st to misery all thou hast: the cold –
with weal embrac’d the sprounting landscape
like a star of heaven in the broad daylight –
this joy subdueth until it again waneth,
save the drooping winter of stalwart.
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