Reflections have never ceased to flood my mind,
Of what in tide and thought I find,
Reflections have painted to me, telluric paradox,
To wit, my heart’s thrust and my mind’s crux.
In this clime of space, time and tide,
Many tides there are; of one to tell- YULETIDE,
Passions therein to expect: love and bliss,
That all may reflect on the death of the year in peace,
And immortalize the birth of Christ; not amiss.
In the exercise of my soul, I’ve seen,
I’ve seen the dichotomy that has always been,
Different stations, all in the tide wherein I speak,
Some, in the height of bliss; some, in the depth so bleak,
The cause for this, I don’t know,
Shall I pose the supreme? No!
He is so supreme; and deserves awe,
But for the divides, my heart knows some sore.
What then shall I say in this light?
What then shall bring my soul delight?
When my acquaintances are grief-laden,
Whilst some are merry-bound as a merry maiden.
What shall I say in this labyrinth?
Let all men reason! Let reason be in hearts so flint,
Let them who merry be not proud of their station,
Let the grief-laden have the stoic mind in their station,
For all in space, tide and time,