 | Marah |  |
80
SEMPER EADEM
1
The years go by. They bring no change, but onlyThe curse of custom, adding length to grief,
And pressure to the crowd that makes more lonely
The lone heart's changeless longing for relief.
2
Relief from wretched memories of things lost,Relief in words that find no utterance now,
Relief from dead love's still undying ghost,
Relief in tears that long have ceased to flow!
81
3
O could I weep, weep, weep away this weightOf tearless, time-worn, inarticulate pain,
Whose heavy burden no blest hopes abate!
O for release, rest, death! In vain, in vain!
| Marah | |