The Collected Songs of Charles Mackay | ||
302
RETURNING MESSENGERS.
I
I was harsh and unforgiving,Cruel taunts escaped my tongue;
Every word, not dead, but living,
Pierced the bosom whence it sprung—
Poison'd arrow, backwards flung.
II
From my lips the words of blessingIssued, though I know not when;
Each, my happy soul possessing,
Came, an angel, back again,
Bearing blessings ten times ten.
The Collected Songs of Charles Mackay | ||