Sonnet to Sorrow.
So heavily, weigh down the fabric of life!
The struggling spirit is vanquished with strife,
Yet onward grief's torrent still merciless rolls
To crush our frail being, oh nothing condoles
The bosom sore pierced by misfortune's sharp
The whole world with sorrow unceasing is rife.
No solace is soothing, no savior consoles.
Go bury thy sorrow, e'en make it a grave
In the rent it has made in the depth of thy
Go bury thy sorrow, this silently save
What grief to another would useless impart.
Somewhere, mid the mist of the future afar
Tho shrouded in shadow, is shining a star.
__Colfax Burgoyne Harman
Poems Of Sentiment
Colfax Burgoyne Harman
(Valley Falls, Kansas: Harman Publishing. 1905)