Xanthe

Please don’t let them see, why you ring our feet, we only ask for freedom, our consoling love, a village soul and shady tree, lost to this crowded boat, I sing to you of ease, a bitter chant sung truly, Dear God set us free, in our heart what's good, this swarm of human seed, who sail with jangled blood, don't tell us to believe, the bounty of your feast what is broken can't retrieve, the hearts made of wood. across this moonlit sea, a craft so sorely troubled, it melds us to history.