 | Life and Literary Remains of L. E. L. |  |
THE WORLD WITHIN.
There was a shadow on his face, that spakeOf passion long since harden'd into thought.
He had a smile, a cold and scornful smile;
Not gaiety, not sweetness, but the sign
Of feelings moulded at their master's will.
A weary world was hidden at that heart;
Sorrow and strife were there, and it had learnt
The weary lessons time and sorrow teach;
And deeply felt itself the vanity
Of love and hope, and now could only feel
Distrust in them, and mockery for those
Who could believe in what he knew was vain.
| Life and Literary Remains of L. E. L. | |