The Love You Foster He Would Reap .

Yours is anchor ,

To bind the mariner's ship ,

Yours is prayer ,                                                                            

To laugh -away each day's grief ,

Yours is vacant look ,

To lay upon the distant horizon ,

Yours is un-read book ,

Treasured  in your body's shrine .

Yours is a mud-built hut ,

And you wish the emperor to come ,

For you are a abstract butt ,

For you wish your Lover should it benumb .

Yours is a cage with your unknown bird ,

And it cries for liberty with opening of the lid

Your lover is not a deaf ,-

He feels your irons ,feels your grief ,

In your tearful , he sets His ship ,

The love you foster He would reap .