But I sate silent and alone,
Wrapped in the mock of mourning weed.
But I sate silent and alone,
Wrapped in the mock of mourning weed.
The Sea, in storm or calm,
Heaven's ever-changing Shadow, spread below,
Have its deaf waves not heard my agony?
But there is stillness now--
Gloom, and the trance of Nature now.
With hue like that when some great painter dips His pencil in the gloom of earthquake and eclipse.
It stirs
Too much of suffocating sorrow!
As long as skies are blue, and fields are green,
Evening must usher night, night urge the morrow,
Month follow month with woe, and year wake year to sorrow.
Wake thou," cried Misery, "childless Mother, rise
Out of thy sleep, and slake, in thy heart's core,
A wound more fierce than his, with tears and sighs.
It were much better that a sentient being should never have existed, than that it should have existed only to endure unmitigated misery.
Chastity is a monkish and evangelical superstition, a greater foe to natural temperance even than unintellectual sensuality it strikes at the rootof all domestic happiness, and consigns more than half of the human race to misery.
Ask why the sunlight not for ever
Weaves rainbows o'er yon mountain-river,
Why aught should fail and fade that once is shown,
Why fear and dream and death and birth
Cast on the daylight of this earth
Such gloom, -- why man has such a scope
For love and hate, despondency and hope?
The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame Over his living head like heaven is bent, An early but enduring monument, Came, veiling all the lightnings of his song In sorrow.
Commerce has set the mark of selfishness, the signet of its all-enslaving power, upon a shining ore, and called it gold before whose image bow the vulgar great, the vainly rich, the miserable proud, the mob of peasants, nobles, priests, and kings, and with blind feelings reverence the power that grinds them to the dust of misery.
All wept--as I think both ye now would,
If envy or age had not frozen your blood--
At the sorrow of my sweet pipings.
The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow, The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow.
The pleasure that is in sorrow is sweeter than the pleasure of pleasure itself.
Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone,
Sweet though in sadness.
Thou knowest not, thou canst not know
My agony.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories