The Morning Shadow

I who have never known sorrow Wait for it morning and evening; For the footstep of grief on my threshold, The drip of tears on my hearthstone, The pitiless hours of lonely, uncomforted woe. Never a life without sorrow! But, oh, when will mine be upon me? When will the years seem long That now slip happily by me? The light of the skies be dimmed To eyes that are weary with weeping?