It’s little eye care what path I take,

But I shall find the sullen rocks and skies,

After the rain has ceased, and still,

I should not cry aloud, I could not cry.

‘Tis been said that some have died for love,

And from the heavens, the clouds did part.

But I shall love my crooked neighbor,

With my crooked heart.

You were the wind and I the sea,

When I am dead, and over me,

April shakes out her rain drenched hair,

I shall gather as much of joy as my hands can hold,

And I shall not care.