Inclined to drown for a crown
My heart is stone-dead, parched up dry No song, no rhythm, no sorrow, makes me cry Be thou me; engulf me with thy showers of grace O Noble one, take away all my cloggings - they trace, They chase, they haunt, beyond all my favorite haunts – To where I thought I could elope from all my flighty wants... Sign in to see full entry.