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 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
IV
Heproceeds in the direction of a stream:
Better is death than sleep,
Better for tired eyes.—
Why do we weep and weep
When near us the solace lies?
There, in that stream, that, deep,—
61
Could comfort all our sighs.
The mystery of things,
Of dreams, philosophies,
To which the mortal clings,
That can unriddle these.—
What is 't the water sings?
What is 't it promises?—
End to my miseries!
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |