Curtain
An accidental collaboration with Thomas Campion (1567 – 1620).
The cypress curtain of the night is spread
And over all a silent dew is cast
Call on the winter birds, blue-crowing in the canopies
Listen leaf, leafe listene –
The weaker cares by sleep are conquered
But I alone with hideous grief aghast
Beaver moon, sorcerous lay on your back
Twiggy sticks clack, a mischievous frame make
In spite of Morpheus' charms a watch do keep
Over mine eyes to banish careless sleep
A bellyful of this sweet drink
You smile across the ages I am completely lost
Yet oft my trembling eyes through faintness close
And then the map of Hell before me stands
Up the Yaffle from my dog's round runs
The whole scape round the piercing spire doth rotate
Which ghosts do see and I am one of those
Ordaines to pine in sorrow's endless bands
What are you thinking what am I
A pale band of fallow imaginings is all i have
Since from my wretched soul all hopes are reft
And now no cause of life to me is left
Feele the heft of weighty mudd
Feele the sap become a floode
Grief, sieze my soul for that will still endure
When my crazed body is consumed and gone
Time I bide and sickening slowly waite
The dog yips yammers impatient at the gate
Bear it to thy black den, there keep it sure
Where thou ten thousand souls dost tire upon
Circle back along the track
Reach back, my winter vespers make
Yet all do not afford such food to thee
All this poor one, the worser part of me
In the wood's dark seam a voice
Be stille; breathe; open your ears
November 11, 2022
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