Sweet scenes of angels lull sick hearts to sleep.
They glide in sky blue, flying over eyes
which flutter, steeped in bourbon’s fevered keep.
White wings of comfort…nature’s soothing spies.

Four years gone
cornered on all sides
blood head
just what we denied

What meaningless and mournful nights have passed.
How glad we would be if compassion came
to call on him, whom life has left to die.
Sweet scenes of angels lull sick hearts to sleep.