Poems | ||
120
HEART-SORROW.
O roaming wind that never rests,
How weird thy wailings be!
How deep from out thy heaving breasts
Of wave thy sobs, O sea!
O heart, that ever like the wind
Rests not, and like the sea
Groans forth what may not be confin'd,
How strange thy sorrows be!
How weird thy wailings be!
How deep from out thy heaving breasts
Of wave thy sobs, O sea!
O heart, that ever like the wind
Rests not, and like the sea
Groans forth what may not be confin'd,
How strange thy sorrows be!
The speargrass by the lakeside lone,
And on the hill the pine,
In sunlight sigh, in moonlight moan,
A grief that echoes mine.
What mystic woes of higher birth
With human woes entwine,
As with the sorrow-sentient earth,
O Heart, commingle thine?
And on the hill the pine,
In sunlight sigh, in moonlight moan,
A grief that echoes mine.
What mystic woes of higher birth
With human woes entwine,
As with the sorrow-sentient earth,
O Heart, commingle thine?
Poems | ||