Sorrow

  Sorrow like a ceaseless rain

    Beats upon my heart.

  People twist and scream in pain, —

  Dawn will find them still again;

  This has neither wax nor wane,

    Neither stop nor start. 

  People dress and go to town;

    I sit in my chair.

  All my thoughts are slow and brown:

  Standing up or sitting down

  Little matters, or what gown

    Or what shoes I wear.