Epistle No. 81
Read Epistle No. 81 lyrics by While Heaven Wept on LyroVerse, with linked artist context and related song paths.
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Epistle No. 81
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Mark how our shadow, Mark Movits, mon frere
One small darkness encloses
How gold and purple that shovel there
To rags and rubbish disposes
Charon beckons from tumultuous waves
Then trice this ancient digger of graves
For thee ne'er grapeskin shall glister
Wherefore my Movits come help me to raise
A gravestone over our sister
Even desirous and modest abode
Under the sighing branches
Where time and death, a marriage forebode
Twixt beauty and ugliness ashes
To thee ne'er jealousy findeth her way
Nor happiness footstep, swift to stray
Flitteth amid these barrows
E'en enmity armed, as thou seest this day
Piously breaketh her arrow
The little bell echoes the great bells groan
Robed in the door the precentor
Noisome with quirsters prayerful moan
Blesses those who enter
The way to this templed city of tombs
Climbs amid roses yellowing blooms
Fragments of mouldering biers
Till black-clad each mourner his station assumes
Bows there deeply in tears
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Who performs "Epistle No. 81"?
While Heaven Wept performs "Epistle No. 81", and this lyric page sits inside the While Heaven Wept catalog on LyroVerse.
Are there related songs to explore after "Epistle No. 81"?
Yes. The related section below points to Obsessions Now Effigies and Ardor with a short reason for opening each page next.
Where can I find more songs by While Heaven Wept?
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