A Passing Thought

CA Passing cUhought As are the damask wings of butterflies, The warbled songs from throats of mated birds ; Rich thus a thought within my being lies, This moment waits for passion's gift of words. As burns the crimson on the robin's breast, As falling waters glint beneath the moon, Like dawn-lit roses, Venus in the West, So to the year this Lover's month of June. Yet beauty brings unrest as well as calm, And in the heart love may be as a thorn, The dirge too often mingles in life's psalm, A hope may die the moment it is born: What words are these that tremble on my tongue? Unspoken be — remain alway unsung! Alfred Lambourne.