Poems: Dread

Dread

Beside a chapel I'd a room looked down,
Where all the women from the farms and town,
On Holy-days, and Sundays used to pass
To marriages, and Christenings and to Mass.

Then I sat lonely watching score and score,
Till I turned jealous of the Lord next door--
Now by this window, where there's none can see,
The Lord God's jealous of yourself and me.

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