 | Robert F. Murray: His Poems |  |
113
IN TIME OF SORROW
Despair is in the suns that shine,
And in the rains that fall,
This sad forsaken soul of mine
Is weary of them all.
And in the rains that fall,
This sad forsaken soul of mine
Is weary of them all.
They fall and shine on alien streets
From those I love and know.
I cannot hear amid the heats
The North Sea's freshening flow
From those I love and know.
I cannot hear amid the heats
The North Sea's freshening flow
The people hurry up and down,
Like ghosts that cannot lie;
And wandering through the phantom town
The weariest ghost am I.
Like ghosts that cannot lie;
And wandering through the phantom town
The weariest ghost am I.
| Robert F. Murray: His Poems | |