 | Collected poems |  |
82
PAIN
Men have made them gods of love,
Sun-gods, givers of the rain,
Deities of hill and grove:
I have made a god of Pain.
Sun-gods, givers of the rain,
Deities of hill and grove:
I have made a god of Pain.
Of my god I know this much,
And in singing I repeat,
Though there's anguish in his touch,
Yet his soul within is sweet.
And in singing I repeat,
Though there's anguish in his touch,
Yet his soul within is sweet.
| Collected poems | |