Ah! My World.
Ah! My world…
How bitter thee;
composed of gall and poverty.
Canst thou be sweet?
Canst thou be grand?
If you forsake His hand?
Ah! My world…
How bitter thee;
composed of gall and poverty.
Canst thou be sweet?
Canst thou be grand?
If you forsake His hand?
Love arrived with Baby’s Breath,
Then Rose to bloom and conquer death.
Sunday Morning Glory taught
the heart, You’re my Forget-me-not.