I WAS shipmate with Sorrow in a day gone by;
We shared wheel and look-out, old Sorrow and I;
Good times and bad times, foul weather and fair,
The old grey face of him was always there.
There was never chanty raised there, never song I heard.
But his voice would be in it like a crying bird ;
I was dull in the dog watches, when the laugh went free.
Because of old Sorrow sitting down by me.
I thought I could lose him in the stir and change
Of bright, wicked cities, all sunlit and strange ;
There came a hand at my elbow and a voice in my ear —
It was old patient Sorrow saying: "Lad, I'm here!"
And by the bustling harbour, up the busy street.
Many a time I see him, many a time I meet
Quietly I closed the door.
Then I said to my soul:
"I shall never come back,
Back to this haunted room
Where Sorrow and I have slept."
I turned from that hated door
And passed through the House of Life,
Through its ghostly rooms and glad
And its corridors dim with age.
Then lightly I crossed a threshold
Where the casements showed the sun
And I entered an unknown room,--
And my heart went cold,
For about me stood that Chamber of Pain
I had thought to see no more!
Happiness is like a kind wife,
Within her rounded arms, she carries Sleep.
But I who am mad for Ecstasy, would keep
The favour of my mistress, Sorrow, all my life.
For Sorrow's sake.
Through the dark hours I lie awake.
So that my songs shall greet a day.
Which has forgot the pleasures of my clay.
I WEEP for happy-sweet days
When your love was near me
Strong in its magical ways,
To hold and cheer me!
To my sad broken life,
Your love had given,
For endless, hopeless strife,
Peace of high Heaven.
I thought your charmed cure
Could have no ending.
And shall no spell endure
Of your dear befriending?
As a dead miser yearns
For earth-stored treasure,
So fiercely my soul burns
For old sweet pleasure
Two gifts I gave you, Love and Sorrow,
Of which the last is best,
But O, my Dear! 'Twas bitter giving,
Come here to me and rest.
What victory shall your world deny you,
Now you have wept?
All peace of love I will restore you
When you have slept.
Leave us our sorrows,
Take not our tears,
For long to-morrows
Of too perfect years.
To the New-born can you deny
The world-old solace of a cry;
Or to hot Youth the eternal right
To win his having with a fight?
Leave us our sorrows,
Take not our tears,
For long to-morrows
Of too perfect years.
Beyond the porcelain fence of the pleasure garden,
I hear the frogs in the blue-green rice-fields ;
But the sword-shaped moon
Has cut my heart in two.
The thing that I am seeking
I know I shall not find.
A wistful voice is crying
This sorrow in my mind.
I know I shall not find it
However far I go,
But I shall always seek it;
My heart has told me so.
Though I must always wander
I do not find it sweet :
There is no journey's ending
To draw my restless feet;
There is no distant vision
To help me on my way ;
I know my quest is hopeless
But yet I may not stay.
The moon reached in cold hands across the sill
And touched me as I lay sleeping;
And in my sleep I thought of sorrowful things :
I wakened, and I lay weeping.
I could hear on the beach below the small waves break
And fall on the silver shingle,
And the sound of a footstep passing in the street
Where lamplight and moonlight mingle.
And I said : "All day I can turn my face to the sun
And lead my thoughts to laughter;
But I hope in my heart that I never shall sleep again
Because of the pain thereafter."
The moon's pale fingers wandered across my face
And the arm where my hot cheek rested,
And because of the tears in my eyes I could not see
Where the black waves rocked moon-crested.
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?
I shall not be afraid any more.
Either by night or day ;
What would it profit me to be afraid
With you away?
Now I am brave. In the dark night alone
All through the house I go,
Locking the doors and making windows fast
When sharp winds blow.
For there is only sorrow in my heart ;
There is no room for fear.
But how I wish I were afraid again,
My dear, my dear!
The old
Old winds that blew
When chaos was, what do
They tell the clattered trees that I
Should weep?