Venetian Lovers Poem by MacGregor Tagliaferro

This music, good yet sad to hear
I can hardly misconceive you;
With divided devotions and mixed emotions
I take the meanin', with a heavy heart

Once upon a time they lived in Venice
Where the merchants were the kings,
Where Saint Mark's is, and the Grand Canal,
Where the Doges used to wed the sea with rings
Where they lived and laughed and loved
Where they made up fresh adventures for the morrow
Where they took their pleasure
When the sea was warm in May

The lady such a beauty, lips so red,
Her neck, her face all flush on their bed,
Her chest poundin' where he laid his head
Well, it was all graceful for them
They would break talk off and work
She, to bite her brush, he to finger his pen,
While the music played and filled the air
The melody so plaintive, sigh on sigh

Told them something? Must this end?
Love must last! We can but try!
Are you happy? And are you still as happy?
Yes. And you? Then, more kisses!
When as many as could be seemed so few
Passion persistent till it must be answered to
Then they resumed their pleasure
And resumed their fulfillment of each other

Till in due time, Time stepped tacitly
And took them where they never see the sun.

To reason, to take a stand, to not swerve,
Triumph over a secret wrung from some reserve,
In comes cold music till it creeps through every nerve
Ghostly creakin', dust and ashes, dead and done with
Venice spent what Venice earned
The soul, doubtless, is immortal
Where a soul can be discerned
Souls shall rise in their design

As for Venice and the lovers, merely born to bloom
There they bore their concupiscence, mirth and folly
What of soul is worth, when the kissin' has to stop
Dust and ashes so you wrote it,
And I want the heart to scold
Do you know what it is to be a lover
Do you know what it is to be half of a whole
I feel cold and grown old