From Out the Dust (Q and C Poem)

From Out the Dust (Q and C Poem)

If my face from the east would bring on day
Screaming forth my name in passion’s play,

My glory dashing twixt pole and pole
As I wow my vassals with my popish role,

And all the world should rise my warmth to honor
And labor lives away for a degree of my favor,

But live without you, friend, to tender me a hand,
Whose love springs from the heart not by command;

If all this universe and its fame were mine
And such possession drew between us a line,

Then shrivel these hands that mound up treasure;
Let embalmers come and take my measure.


drd