VERSE: A CROWN OF SORROW

A Sorrow, wet with early tears

Yet bitter, had been long with me;

I wearied of this weight of years,

And would be free.

I tore my Sorrow from my heart,

I cast it far away in scorn;

Right joyful that we two could part —

Yet most forlorn.

I sought, ( to take my Sorrow's place,)

Over the world for flower or gem —

But she had had an ancient grace

Unknown to them.

I took once more with strange delight

My slighted Sorrow; proudly now,

I wear it, set with stars of light,

Upon my brow.