I remain — your patient servant, ever ready to oblige
With a grizzly turn of fate, to yield some slow or fast demise
Whether by natural cause or by mischief — Your wish is mine
(Every blossom on the bush)
I confess — to some annoyance, that in obscurity you hide
Fear you not I will defend you, when the critics swoop and chide
For they do not know as I do that you will rise
Every blossom on the bush, adjusts its tumbled head, as we pass by
Flurried signals in the dust, as we pass by
Don’t stir again your yellow eye toward thе morning’s crest
Like loaded gun — your work is donе; ’tis better now to rest
So at last — we ride together — just we two and what will come
Slowly past the scampering children — their lessons scarcely done
Toward the sweeping house with mound for cornice
Bound for Eternity, not for Tunis
The centuries to while away, as if there passed instead — but another day
Every blossom on the bush, adjusts its tumbled head, as we pass by
Flurried signals from the dust, disturb the morning’s breath, as we pass by
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