The Honors

Renaissance Poem

The Honors

where, for art thou going

and for what is this, I suppose

my dear awake, are you with me

my dream was over so quickly

my dear, are you awake

I know, not my own knowing but that of you

of me mine and my own I do try don't I

to try the trudest true of thine own

to forgive thee thy dost know on thine own

from now, until the dawn when mine breaks

I am no burden to you for that was true

then let there be if not be they have come

no light in the shadows scathe my trust

no, will do more than what takes me

thine own peace to thy people that follow thee

have you no certainty that I am strong

pain me without thy mind and take no scare

let grace be thy god and together like men we remain forgiven