Sorrow

Sorrow


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,

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
Little matters, or what gown

Or what shoes I wear.