religious poem

eighty years have passed, and more
all quiet along the potomac
when the hours of day are numbered
all day to watch the blue wave curl and break
i have heard that a certain princess
the saddest of the year
still her gray rocks tower above the sea
our pleasant moments fly
sad are they who know not love
what was it the engines said
to be able to see every side of every question
there is no escape by the river
we break the glass whose sacred wine
when, full of warm and eager love