My name is Worry and I force myself Like some persistent caller on the day Which might be merry as a gladsome elf From dawn till evening could it have its way And I remain aloof. If soothing night Could tuck to rest upon its trundle-bed The weary world and I not claim my right To fret it till its drowsiness had fled, No one would call me Worry and my name Might quite as well be Tweedledee or -dum And every day, as surely as it came, Would dance without a thought of years to come But, still, would wander an inferior race Half beast, half man, left living by God's grace. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO DIANEME (1) by ROBERT HERRICK SONNET: 36 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE HOUND OF HEAVEN by FRANCIS THOMPSON THE BIRTHDAY CROWN by WILLIAM ALEXANDER (1824-1911) PSALM 19. [THE HEAVENS ABOVE AND THE LAW WITHIN] by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 43. FAREWELL TO JULIET (5) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT LIFE AND DEATH by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE |