Opals and Amber

Call it an age, call it a day, What’s in the world with love away? The sun a round and golden ghost, The moon the shadow he has lost; And spring herself for all her green The bare and brown a pause between. Call it an age, call it a day, When love is gone, what’s there to say?

Opal or gold, amber or gray, What’s in the world with love away? Opal a pool of changeling fires, Where the gold angel stirs desires That do not heal Bethesda way But only turn the amber gray. Call it an age, call it a day, When love is gone, what’s there to say?

Call it a dream, call it a play, What’s in the world with love away? With love away can a man clamber To heaven by a rope of amber? Or can an opal stretch a wire To lead a girl to her desire?

Amber and opal—but I remember Love that was better than opal or amber. Call it an age, call it a day, What’s in the world with love away?