I can just go back to my solitude, anytime, why bother with the world
Is resignation a sin? sighs Europa
Isn’t love that’s neither shared nor proclaimed, love just the same?
Silent, invisible love would still abide…
Misled, betrayed, plundered by the Fallen One —
He who is in chains forever, but gets a prison break
From time to time to do his mischief —
Lost on an island, banished from the world
Seduced, the siren Europa sings her heart empty
Until she withers & passes from the world.
There will be no Hosannas, ordered Agrippa
And her siren songs will wither from this world!
Time passes and her remains are stirred
By the passionate fingers of an organist —
An Orpheus lost in sadness, looking through ashes
For his forlorn immortal queen —
A little brook thundering mighty tunes
Somewhere in the cold, dark north
Among arched abodes and high Gothic spires
Where a lover touched by the passion of the Christ
To serve love, not to obey human orders,
Hears her silence, between the ages,
Between the passages of dreadful Time
And echoes the image of her beloved.
Her song thunders through the high arched dome,
A distant future, a forgotten dream
The Time Traveller carries in His sacred heart
As He sails in service of the siren
Who heard His voice Rising on the Sabbath Great
And fell in love, proceeding
To obey His every Great Command of Easter
Stamping His image
On the angelic faces of her children
And praying for them to Mary, who lost One
To gain hers, the children of Europa.
Neither beauty nor love remain hidden
And the world will once again see
Her immortal face, hear her magnolious voice
Hosanna Siren Europa