Some may say that I am cold

And unconcerned for the suffering world,

To walk past doors of the poor and the old,

But even an oyster can be impearled!

The salt of the Earth is hard to find,

Thousands have walked on the sands of time.

And many have lost the will to bind

The words of unsung love in happy rhyme!

The music of unspent hours in Summer sadness

Fills my mind and needs its Season

To give the girl a magic gladness

Without the pain or senseless reason!

Beyond the dark there is a thread

Which finds no spool on the mid-day tide,

But pulls on the heart in a Spartan bed

Were I have been alone for you, and cried!

Let cold Reality show what it wants,

A hard face to hide its own despair.

Some who have known the secret love

         which suffering haunts

May never show how much they really care!