SOME days, when I am dressed in shimmer-stuff, With yellow roses at my breast and hair; When just the air and sunlight seem enough To make the whole world delicately rare; When people love me, and I them, and all My heart is like a hill-brook's lilting call: Then, if I pass her, in her dim black dress, With heavy eye-lids darkened by old tears, I feel a sudden clutch of loneliness; I stare down vistas of unsparkling years, And there behold myself, clad close in black, With tired brows, thin hands, and aching back. O Sorrow's Shadow! let me be awhile! Wreck not my happy yellow roses: set No watch upon my sudden cry and smile. Why should I not forget -- ah, half forget! -- That Sorrow's Self will meet me some strange day, And take my hand, nor let me dance away? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LAY OF ST. ALOYS; A LEGEND OF BLOIS by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM SCARABAEUS SISYPHUS by MATHILDE BLIND ON CHURCH COMMUNION by JOHN BYROM THE HOUSE OF PAIN by FLORENCE EARLE COATES SONG (4) by ANNE BATTEN CRISTALL DOONSIDE by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND |