The Garden
There's faery in this garden
I cannot bear to hear him sing:
"Thee sculptors all pursuing,
Have embodied but their own;
Round their visions, form enduring,
Marble vestments thou hast thrown"
There's faery in my garden
I cannot bear to hear him sing:
"But thyself, in silence winding,
Thou hast kept eternally
Thee they found not, many finding
I have found thee, wake for me."
"Hear my voice come through the golden
Mist of memory and hope;
And with shadowy smile embolden
Me with primal death to cope."
I cannot bear to hear him sing:
"Thee sculptors all pursuing,
Have embodied but their own;
Round their visions, form enduring,
Marble vestments thou hast thrown"
There's faery in my garden
I cannot bear to hear him sing:
"But thyself, in silence winding,
Thou hast kept eternally
Thee they found not, many finding
I have found thee, wake for me."
"Hear my voice come through the golden
Mist of memory and hope;
And with shadowy smile embolden
Me with primal death to cope."
Credits
Writer(s): Robert Michael Cook, Adam Eckley Cook
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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