When I was young, I said to Sorrow,
“Come, I will play with thee!” –
He is near me now all day;
And at night returns to say,
“I will come again tomorrow,
I will come and play with thee.”
Through the woods we walk together;
His soft footsteps rustle nigh me.
To shield an unregarded head,
He hath built a wintry shed;
And all night in rainy weather,
I hear his gentle breathings by me.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Aubrey de Vere’s “Sorrow” (Commonplace Book)
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