Renascence and Other Poems

Renascence and Other Poems
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第8章 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.

Edna St.

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