Sonnet to Sorrow.souls! 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 knife. 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 heart. 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)
Page 40
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