Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948). The Little Book of Modern Verse. 1917.
Morris Rosenfeld
I Know Not Why
I
The clouds are weeping, so am I;
I lift mine eyes again on high,
The sun is smiling, so am I.
Why do I smile? Why do I weep?
I do not know; it lies too deep.
They break my heart, they make me cry;
I hear the birds of lovely spring,
My hopes revive, I help them sing.
Why do I sing? Why do I cry?
It lies so deep, I know not why.