Sitting lonely in the old valley, Upon the broken fence of time; While at the dead smile of the past, My cold eyes stare.
What is left of a memory shattered to pick,
If reality could lie?
I could have borrowed warmth
From a dead coal!
I had fastened my hope in man; My friends
I have wounded the heart of my Beloved, I have gone from him to another woman. Looking for love where there is none And now I'm so miserable with none to comfort.
Is it a wonder that I'm unhappy still?
The love I looked for, I could not see.
Now I hated the
For long stood I in fellowship Sitting in comb with the Christians; Cold, cold, dull, and dull it ever seems. To me it was unusual, but so many were pleased with it; Just converted, my new world seems promising– Why should the Church I first knew grow cold still?