Lyrics Cheerful Dirge - Theatre Of Tragedy

Cheerful Dirge

Hap mirthfulness!
— Oh!
joy of grand riddance;
Undress me my hauberk!
— the wyvern hath errant’d.
Ire of yore — bard of e’eryears —
I deem the brood hath wan’d —
fore’ermore?!
Fro the chasm of the bosom, bale I hand back.
Hark!
my dove — henceforth I bulwark thee!
-
Feathers of swans in my pillow — I cede my heart.
Make haste!
— I pray — respond my plea!
Lo!
— a sire of great awe — a knight of many battles!
…And of kinsmen weeping for the slain!
Please!
— heed my words;
In thy sorrow I will kiss thy tears —
In thy bliss I will take thee by thy hand —
The sapor of grapes thou shalt savor —
And harken the nightingale sing oh so blithely!
On his knees… A plea to harvest
roses;
No heed for the thorns yon count!
Wherefore this gildd proffer?
Wherefore not pay court to a maid
more fair?
-
Morn of a joyous day!
Hower 'twixt
weed!
Fertile desert!
Cheerful dirge!
Misery me not!
— man nor beast;
envy
me;
Lest 'tis an act of wont!
Many are the drapes that my past
bury —
Ineffable feeling indulgeth in battles!
Tisn’t what thou vambrace’st thy words with!!;
I bethink dotingly only thy weal —
Forgive me for deeming thee direfully —
Therein abdiding with thee
Yet I was a trifle daunt’d.
Is for me the grandest boon!