Bound (verse)
Smyth, Amey
Tiound Why is my stable door shut close And all my horses tethered fast? To keep me till my madness goes And my wish to ride is past. Why do my sails lie swathed so low, And heavy anchors bear...
...To hold in case the wind should blow And I, perhaps, might drown...
...Amey Smyth...
...Why do my sails lie swathed so low, And heavy anchors bear them down...
...Why are my windows dull and grey, And all my burnished lamps turned dim...
...For fear my love might chance this way And I should follow him...
Vol. 12 • August 1930 • No. 17
