All that could run or leap or swim Whether in wood, water or cloud, Acclaiming, proclaiming, declaiming Him.
For he would be thinking of love Till the stars had run away And the shadows eaten the moon.
Brown Penny I WHISPERED, 'I am too young,' And then, 'I am old enough'; Wherefore I threw a penny To find out if I might love. 'Go and love, go and love, young man, If the lady be young and fair.' Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, I am looped in the loops of her hair. O love is the crooked thing, There is nobody wise enough To find out all that is in it, For he would be thinking of love Till the stars had run away And the shadows eaten the moon. Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, One cannot begin it too soon.
Between extremities Man runs his course; A brand, or flaming breath, Comes to destroy All those antinomies Of day and night.
Oh, Love is the crooked thing, there is nobody wise enough to find out all that is in it, for he will be thinking about love til the stars run away and the shadows eaten the moon.
Bid imagination run / Much on the Great Questioner; / What He can question, what if questioned I / Can with a fitting confidence reply.
Boughs have their fruit and blossom At all times of the year; Rivers are running over With red beer and brown beer.
How could passion run so deep Had I never thought That the crime of being born Blackens all our lot?
What if the Church and the State Are the mob that howls at the door! Wine shall run thick to the end, Bread taste sour.
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