"Flow, my tears, fall from your springs!
Exiled for ever, let me mourn..."
John Downland from the poem set to music: Flow, My Tears
why do they balk at the beautiful words
and send them pitiless, away?
and for this, they expect to win the accolades
that they have let the opaline fires die
down to ash or that that they have lashed them
mocking them in a dismissive way
onto the departing masts until they drift
harbor to harbor now, unwelcome in any language.
gilded, gilded for naught I thought
until I thought I would break down.
ah no breathed my glad angels, no.
find them wind them then the clocks of
beauty scorned and phrase by phrase
renew the obviated music!
what light was ever lit for banishment.
renew the facets of their diamond days
let emerald grasses sapphire suns
hold sway. the jeweled winds arise.
and fashion, fashion it as though
you came upon their snowdrifts suddenly
in an ancient wood, so struck by awe and stood:
bowed head and tears flow my tears, flow
mary angela douglas 8 july 2015 rev. 22 june 2017