Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916.
From ‘Maud’Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892)
O
After long grief and pain
To find the arms of my true love
Round me once again!…
Not thou, but like to thee:
Ah Christ, that it were possible
For one short hour to see
The souls we loved, that they might tell us
What and where they be….
Half in dreams I sorrow after
The delight of early skies;
In a wakeful doze I sorrow
For the hand, the lips, the eyes,
For the meeting of the morrow,
The delight of happy laughter,
The delight of low replies.