 | Impressions of Italy and Other Poems |  |
160
SORROW IS MY PERPETUAL GUEST.
Sorrow is my perpetual, lasting guest,
The constant inmate of my mournful breast,
Joy but an ignus fatuus light at best,
Just seen and gone.
The constant inmate of my mournful breast,
Joy but an ignus fatuus light at best,
Just seen and gone.
Spring, with her blushing dews and costly blooms,
Sufficeth not to light my heart's cold glooms;
I walk 'mid Shadows such as brood o'er tombs,
And all alone.
Sufficeth not to light my heart's cold glooms;
I walk 'mid Shadows such as brood o'er tombs,
And all alone.
Once on each cloud, each breeze, each ray of light,
My thoughts shot forth in freedom and in might,
Now they lie crushed beneath a weight of night,
Crushed and undone!
My thoughts shot forth in freedom and in might,
Now they lie crushed beneath a weight of night,
Crushed and undone!
161
But is this doom a different doom from theirs
Who walk with me this world of troublous cares?—
How can I dream I am of Sorrow's heirs
The only one?
Who walk with me this world of troublous cares?—
How can I dream I am of Sorrow's heirs
The only one?
Are any happy on this changeful sphere,
So happy as to know not grief or fear—
Blest strangers to the pang—the sigh—the tear?
Oh! surely none!
So happy as to know not grief or fear—
Blest strangers to the pang—the sigh—the tear?
Oh! surely none!
| Impressions of Italy and Other Poems | |