Put by the sun my joyful soul, <br />We are for darkness that is whole; <br /> <br />Put by the wine, now for long years <br />We must be thirsty with salt tears; <br /> <br />Put by the rose, bind thou instead <br />The fiercest thorns about thy head; <br /> <br />Put by the courteous tire, we need <br />But the poor pilgrim's blackest weed; <br /> <br />Put by — a'beit with tears — thy lute, <br />Sing but to God or else be mute. <br /> <br />Take leave of friends save such as dare <br />Thy love with Loneliness to share. <br /> <br />It is full tide. Put by regret. <br />Turn, turn away. Forget. Forget. <br /> <br />Put by the sun my lightless soul, <br />We are for darkness that is whole.<br /><br />Robert Nichols<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-pilgrim-4/
