130 SORROW.
��SOBROW.
��BY MARY HELEN BOODEY.
Sorrow sits and softly sings
While she flings
O'er the strings Of her lute her fingers white, With tear-diamonds bedight.
Diamonds deck her, head and foot,
Well they suit
On her lute, Glitter, glitter, like the rain, Sparkle, sparkle, without stain.
Every diamond is a tear;
Jewels dear;
Without fear Sorrow wears them and doth shine As she were a diamond-mine.
Sorrow gathers hour by hour
Such a dower,
Such a shower Of the bright, translucent gems Which she wears in diadems.
When -her holy work is done
Every one
In the sun Glows and flashes living light That would dazzle mortal sight.
Now she comes and sits by me,
Moments flee
Dreamily ; As I weep she closer clings, Working, ever, as she sings.
Sorrow ! Sorrow ! go thy way,
Do not stay
Here to-day, I've shed tears enough for thee, Haste away ! I will be free !
But my guest doth still remain
And again
Falls the rain Of my tears, which she doth take Singing low, " For faith's sweet sake!"
�� �
