Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916.
Come, heavy souls, oppressèd with the weightWilliam Strode (16021645)
From ‘The Floating Island’
C
Of crimes, or pangs, or want of your delight;
Come, drown in Lethe’s sleepy lake
Whatever makes you ache;
Drink health from poisoned bowls;
Breathe out your cares, together with your souls!
Cool Death ’s a salve,
Which all may have.
There ’s no distinction in the grave.
Lay down your loads before Death’s iron door;
Sigh, and sigh out! Groan once, and groan no more!