Page:Poems Crandall.djvu/66

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Love's Grief
Why art thou sorrowful Love, why weep
When all men worship at thy feet?
There's none to lowly to dream of thee,
No king too lofty to bow the knee—
Why dost thou grieve when so truly blest?
Of all good gifts thou art surely best.

"I mourn alas, for the world's dark shame,
For crimes committed in my name.
Behold fierce Passion stalks the land,
With Riot and Murder goes hand in hand;
He makes excuse for a course so wild,
By claiming to be my own fair child.

"I mourn, alas, that sinful lust
Can win and betray a pure girl's trust;
Forsaken, ruined, poor helpless thing
She writhes 'neath desertion's cruel sting.
I weep for the scorn in her eyes' dark gleam,
There is no love, tis a foolish dream.

"I weep that Greed should my name defile,
While seeking to win fair fortune's smile;
He builds him a home where I cannot reign,
And finds it a nest of strife and pain.
Few love me though many make loud the claim;
Alas, alas for the world's dark shame."

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