VI
Oh, Babylon,
Your golden spires
Have gone
To find desires
Far above
Your strength
To love.
And when at length
You reach your height,
I fear you'll find
Your sorry plight:
Too poor in heart, too rich in mind.
Oh, Babylon,
Your golden spires
Have gone
To find desires
Far above
Your strength
To love.
And when at length
You reach your height,
I fear you'll find
Your sorry plight:
Too poor in heart, too rich in mind.
This is really lovely! And sadly, spot on.
Thank you, Mark (-:
I am going to see if I can get some of the nice folks in poetsunited to take a look at this!
My thanks to you (-: