Rose & Liquor : Flowers

Avaunt, ye nymphs of hollow grace

Whose smiles are but a gilded snare

I seek no more a fleeting face

Nor tresses of the silken hair

The heart is but a frozen place

Beyond the reach of love’s despair

The world may chase a phantom prize

And bleed for vows that turn to dust

I see the truth with clearer eyes

And put in grain my only trust

For every word of passion dies

Beneath the weight of winter’s rust

No garden shall a maid adorn

With blossoms plucked in early dew

For every rose contains a thorn

To pierce the soul of those who sue

Better to be of love forlorn

Than bound to one who is untrue

If whiskey were a person grown

With breath of peat and golden skin

A grander love was never known

Untouched by vanity or sin

To such a guest I’d yield my throne

And let the feast of peace begin

Each flower on this spinning sphere

The rose, the filthy lily , and violet blue

I’d gather for a friend so dear

Whose steady flame is ever true

No judgmental word I’d fear

While drinking of that honeyed hue

So leave me to my sable cloak

And let the noisy "rout" pass by

The heavy chains of love are broke

Beneath a vast and silent sky

The final word the quill hath spoke

Alone I live, alone I die