Here he comes, in shallow streams
To row me off into my dreams
His face appraised of silent screams
The Boatman draws ever near
Yet just as I’m certain of what it seems,
An endless vast, where no light gleams,
I question the make of these dim themes,
And at last I am without fear
Above my brow the stars all shine
Each made of their own design
And a truth that I cannot decline
Becomes, at once, infallibly clear
Waste not a moment in search of sign
For yours will never be as mine
No song sounds so divine
As when sung with your own cheer
I offer to you what I’ve found
Lift the burdens by which you’re bound
Take a moment to make a sound,
And tell me what you hear
No, not incredible, nor profound
But upon it kings were crowned
It doesn’t have to be renowned
So long as it’s sincere
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