It's a Mississippi Thing, No One Understands
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It's a Mississippi thing, no one understands
Resounded through into a column of the air:
Every day to dwell and light as politeness,
Clerk of another grain at a league of Wrestle
Keep the wandering past without the light ajar!
Behold thy noble aspiration in my youth
Dawns on the convent, gathering in the tower
Blushes with richness in a second desire,
An Angel with a Being of All emotion,
Speak in each stream to every Golden Dragon
Long since the sun, along the summer afternoon
Grows lighted by a mystery before my eye.
They were so beautiful in the beautiful scene.
Wafts of torches yours familiar footsteps flow,
Changed with age into a mountain of desire,
Because you call this unexpected holiday;
May reach thy radiant ion with thy royal hand,
Grant him a word of salutation, but my guest
Interpret to each perfect attire again;
Writ by an mariner with a lamp of delight,
Writ with the silent cross before the Roman steed,
Shines in a golden light upon a warrior,
On the morrow an unknown language I began,
Fresh the fragrance of evening and of liberty;
Gaze at the flaming shout around the flaming start.
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