Cheerful Dirge

Cheerful Dirge - Theatre Of Tragedy

Hap mirthfulness

Oh joy of grand riddance

Undress me my hauberk

The wyern hath errant'd

Ire of yore bard of e'eryears

I deem the brood hath wan'd

Fore'ermore

Fro the chasm of the bosom

Bale a hand back

Hark my dove

Henceforth I bulwark thee

Teathers of swans in my pillow

I cede my heart

Make haste

I pray

Respond my plea

Lo a sire of great awe

A knight of many battles

And of kinsmen weeping

For the slain

Please heed my words

In thy sorrow I will kiss thy tears

In thy bliss I will take thee by

Thy hand

The sapor of grapes

Thou shalt savor

And harken the nighttingale

Sing

Oh so blithely

On his knees

A plea to harvest roses

No heed for the thorns you count

Wherefore vow me

Wherefor this gilded proffer

Wherefore not pay court

To a maid more fair

Morn of a joyous day

Hower 'twixt **

Fertile desert

Cheerful dirge

Misery me not man nor beast envy me

Lest'tis an act of won't

Many are the drapes

That my past bury

Ineffable feeling indulgeth in battles

Tisn't what thou vambrace'st thy words with

I be think dotingly only thy weal

Only thy weal

There in abdiding with thee

If I made the grandest boon