In the doorway of the House of Sorrow
I stand, and Sorrow sits within.
Through the window of the House of Sorrow
A measure from without came drifting in.
Like a strong beam of the sun, that through the window
Points to a thing unseen, the song came in;
And, listening, I stole out, and in the doorway
I stand, and Sorrow sits within.
In the doorway of the House of Sorrow
I stand, and like one blind, I lift my face
And listen, and I hear the steps of Sorrow
Who comes to seek me from the darkened place.
Like a child half-awakened, in the doorway
I stand and listen, and I hear the rain
And, from behind, the swift, sure steps of Sorrow-
O thou without, wilt thou not sing again?
(Ethel Clifford)
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Based on Topics: Sadness Poems, Place Poems, Listening PoemsBased on Keywords: half-awakened