Where hides now the gentle grace
that once beamed upon thy precious face?
What grave harm from thee hath stole
the kindness from thy weeping soul?
Why hast thou forsaken, gone, to flee
and cast me in this dreadful sea?
When whilst thou return o’ distant friend
thy strength and mine to ever lend?
Who hast taken thy loving glance
and left mine heart no more to dance?
Could I a sorcerer conjure some potion
and thus assure eternal devotion?
Would I a King compel you near,
and drive you by some noble fear?
Or if, a God would I command
come to me now, walk hand in hand?
Sure not true friend gone far astray,
‘tis not for me to judge thy chosen way.
But hold this space for thy return,
will I for thee and without spurn.
With open arms to hold close once more,
now, the ‘morrow, and evermore.
Author: Jim Owens
Assoc. Editor: Kendra Hackett / Editor: Emily Bartran
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