The Song of solemn
Sunday's I would sit stoic-like
Listening to the expounding upon
Romans
All the time the King James
Secretly open to the Song
Seldom turned to
Daydreaming upon
Foxes, the little foxes
Feeding among the lilies
Shadows fleeing away
Revealing roes
Flocks of goats
Teeth of sheep
Pomegranate locks
And I'd stop at those
Two twins
Returning to Romans
And the wages of sin
And sigh.
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