Ah, Emptied Heart!

Ah, emptied heart! The weary o' the path!
How would I to fill ye up o' love!
I'd tear this lute, that it might whir
A song that soothed thy lone, awearied path.
I'd steal the sun's pale gold,
And e'en the silvered even's ray,
To treasure them within this song
That it be rich for thee.
From out the wastes o' earth I'd seek
And catch the woe-tears shed,
That I might drink them from the cup
And fill it up with loving.
From out the hearts afulled o' love
Would I to steal the o'er-drip
And pack the emptied hearts of earth.
The bread o' love would I to cast
Unto thy bywayed path, and pluck me from
The thorned bush that traileth o'er
The stepping-place, the thorn, that brothers
O' the flesh o' me might step 'pon path acleared.
Yea, I'd coax the songsters o' the earth
To carol thee upon thy ways,
And fill ye up o' love, and love, and love.