BusterStronghart@Gmail.com

Inscription found in an old copy of the Forty Days of Musa DaghTo Lynn, Aug 3rd 1946

The years have gone to dust, and all we weigh
The days when love was full and always true.
They withered to the ground, and yet the ray
Shines on the fruits of Mornings from the dew.

We grow from dawn to darkness and the day
In flowing streams, an filled with with mournful rue,
Falls on the stranger’s calm and lovely way,
Desiring only peace, a solitary peace.

And yet when dawn doth bring the softest rain,
And hope, with fellowship delight of love,
Arises from the soul, and floats above,
With love no earthly creature can sustain,

Then do I know the sight of my eyes behold,
Tis you, my sweet, my aching eyes enfold.

Marcel