 |
 |
Dust thou art
Like mockery of an eagle's call,
Or lion's roar in jungle dim;
Men's plains of Sodom rise to fall
In brimstone, fire and hail within,
Lie now in dust, yet rise to tell
That men so soon - To dust return.
Dust thou art
Like mockery of a bulging barn
Of goods, or grain in lieu of soul,
"This night-thy soul, Whose Farm?"
Or brothers, a water-drop that's whole;
Lie now in dust, yet rise to tell
That men so soon - To dust return.
 |
-Elizabeth Wallace Morehead-
Copyright owned by the
Wallace and Morehead
families.
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
Created with the CoffeeCup HTML Editor