sad poetry

i cannot always feel his greatness
from our hidden places
i hold your heart
let us express our baser passions
tell me less or tell me more
let me move slowly through the street
when a deed is done for freedom
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
daughter, thou art come to die
lived by the river-side
softly weeping
i loathed you
when you come tonight