Стихотворения и сонеты — страница 3 из 3

SORROW like a ceaseless rain

Beats upon my heart.

People twist and scream in pain, —

Dawn will find them still again;

This has neither wax nor wane, 5

Neither stop nor start.

People dress and go to town;

I sit in my chair.

All my thoughts are slow and brown:

Standing up or sitting down 10

Little matters, or what gown

Or what shoes I wear.