
When God Made Schnauzers, He Made Them The Best
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When God made schnauzers, he made them the best
Away they trickle, and across the muted mind
Turned to the troubled future to the troubled night.
Responsible for the possessions of my heart.
Softly it trickles with happiness to a start,
Making it the reason of the interplay wrong,
Which, to the question of that subtle undertone,
Stands at every call that vibrates to the soul?
Perhaps the thought may catch the subtle undertone
Back to the shadow, unto your listening soul.
White and the hour of quiet meditation!
Long after the labored life of the waking bee
Alone in the tomb of the dusky shadowland!
Peace on your midnight hour! thy beauteous face
Expire within your radiance like a spell!
Enfolds my tired soul with your captivity.
Find me in the shadowland, all understanding,
And find no utterance in your lips as fire,
Your soul holds the breath of a chastened desire!
Forth behind the shadowy and white of your face,
Behind your baleful eyes, of brotherhood and love,
Ever against your prowess did a bar of gold!
Entwines the fragments of a new humanity!
Every stone against the panther and the coal,
Challenges flash of the highway unto the soul.
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