JACK O'LANTHORN
Can you not see me careless? Can you not feel me weak,
Dear hands upon my heartstrings, dear lips upon my cheek?
Out of a world of wandering men is this the man you seek?
These eyes that look through yours, my dear, have looked into the pit,
Will look again and yet again and linger over it:
For there are lights that shine at nights not all in heaven lit.
If I am Jack o' Lanthorn, sweet, a homeless thing am I.
I cannot warm you but must see you cold until you die;
Will you not choose a homely hearth to sit and warm you by?
You choose the wildfire none the less, you'll follow where I go?
Ah! steadfast heart and sweet heart, made strong for me to know,
Although I go I will return; although I change and grow,
Change and lessen, on your soul my wayward soul I stay,
Your steady light my wandering light shall draw and feed and sway,
And I will love you, sweet, as long as Jack o' Lanthorn may.
