Today I feeleth at peace in midsts of war,
I don't knoweth wherefore, haply I oweth,
To heavens and the flote mine inner light,
Which shines so silent in mine owneth uproar.
Pity the dead! they said, and I believ'd,
Not anymore, I pray, they art asleep,
They seeth nay moo, for dreams art deep and blindeth,
A treasure held by he who ever liv'd.
And glee nev'r had been so sweet a fruit,
And thus I feeleth so calm and yet afraid,
So tempting and so red inside of me,
My debt to death will anon be repaid.
It takes me to the heavens, into light,
It shines so silent in mine owneth uproar,
I oweth nay more, O destiny of mine,
At peace at last in midsts of reckless war.
Addah Monoceros.
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