I am weary at heart, yet not weary with sorrow, nor weary with pain; I would that an eager sorrow returned to me out of the deep; I could fold my hands in the morning, lie down on my bed again: O Sorrow, angel of Joy, re-awaken my heart from its sleep! I am wearier than the old, when they sit and smile in the sun, Dreaming of sorrowful things, grown happy and dim to their sight; But I dream in the morning, my daylight is over, my day's work done I am old at heart, for my sorrow is sleepy, and nods before night. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE JOURNEY ONWARDS by THOMAS MOORE LATE AUTUMN by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM TO BESSIE HAWES, MAY QUEEN by ANNA EMILIA BAGSTAD COMOS by ADRA CAROLINE BATCHELDER ASOLANDO: PONT DELL' ANGELO, VENICE by ROBERT BROWNING FATHER O'SHEA WAS HIS REGIMENT'S PRIDE by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR SONG: A BEAUTIFUL MISTRESS by THOMAS CAREW THE CANTERBURY TALES: THE MERCHANT'S TALE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER |