18.06.2007, 12:01
SISTER SORROW.
I FOUND her walking in a lonely place,
Where shadows lingered and the day was low;
She trod a devious path with footsteps slow,
And by the waning light I scanned her face,
And in its loveliness beheld the trace
Old tears had left, and woes of long ago;
Then knew she I was kin to her, and so
Stretched forth her chill, soft hand with welcoming grace.
Now I walk with her through her realm of shade—
I hear gay music sound, and laughter ring,
And voices call me that I knew of old,
But of their mocking mirth I am afraid,—
Led through the dusk by her to whom I cling,
May I not reach some blessedness untold?
I FOUND her walking in a lonely place,
Where shadows lingered and the day was low;
She trod a devious path with footsteps slow,
And by the waning light I scanned her face,
And in its loveliness beheld the trace
Old tears had left, and woes of long ago;
Then knew she I was kin to her, and so
Stretched forth her chill, soft hand with welcoming grace.
Now I walk with her through her realm of shade—
I hear gay music sound, and laughter ring,
And voices call me that I knew of old,
But of their mocking mirth I am afraid,—
Led through the dusk by her to whom I cling,
May I not reach some blessedness untold?