Come back. Let me give up this climb, these searches In trackless time and overwhelming space; Here are tall ghosts that once were elms and birches, And this small field is a deserted place. The fern you found will never learn to scatter Its yield upon the ground that you have left; The veery's round, high call will turn to chatter; Sere are these acres, weary and bereft. Against the skies earth rears its broken scaffold, Where night, so friendly once, is but a black Stupendous ruin where the mind is baffled; And the blind heart cries out its endless lack: "Come, mend the world! Come back!"
- by Louis Untermeyer (1885 - 1977) [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- by Timothy Hoekman , "Mend the World", 1989, published 1992 [ voice and piano ], from American Lyrics, no. 3 [sung text not yet checked]
Researcher for this text: Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor]
This text was added to the website: 2020-08-27
Line count: 13
Word count: 107