A Love Prayer

by Joseph Ignatius Constantine Clarke

Joseph Ignatius Constantine Clarke

The sunshine sang to the butterfly
"I am touching thy wings with gold."
The warm breeze whispered in rustling by,
"At night thou'lt die of cold."
O morning sun upon Love's light wings,
O cold night-winds of the heart,
Be mine with the doom of living things,
But oh, be long apart.





Last updated January 14, 2019