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wedding poem

O angemessen und stately Mädchen, dessen Augen
in den mournful Zahlen
Freund, dessen Lächeln gekommen ist zu sein
in ihren zackigen regimentals
mit den meek, braunen Augen
es gibt eine Stadt, builded durch keine Hand
wir brechen das Glas dessen sacred Wein
und wie Sie Traum der Sitzung konnten
die kleinen weißen Gebete
er würde sogar seinen Witz haben
schöne, tragical Gesichter

 



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