A light low in the East,
As I lie there,
It shows but does not move,
A light, a light as a thought,
Forgotten comes again.
The forest world is waking,
A thousand leaves are beginning to gleam.
Later on, as I rise,
It shows through the tree,
And lights the dark grey rock,
And something in the mind,
And brings the quiet day.
And tomorrow, tomorrow,
The light as a thought,
Forgotten comes again, again,
And with it ever,
And with it ever,
The hope of the New Day.
[sweet piece for voice, violin & piano]
1 comment:
I mean, I stink at the violin, but let's do this when you come to visit. (Mostly just come to visit. :)
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