letra de a complaint - robert owens
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there is a change — and i am poor;
your love hath been, nor long ago
a fountain at my fond heart’s door
whose only business was to flow;
and flow it did; not taking heed
of its own bounty, or my need
what happy moments did i count!
blest was i then all bliss above!
now, for that consecrated fount
of murmuring, sparkling, living love
what have i? shall i dare to tell?
a comfortless and hidden well
a well of love — it may be deep —
i trust it is, — and never dry:
what matter? if the waters sleep
in silence and obscurity
— such change, and at the very door
of my fond heart, hath made me poor
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