Poems (Shore)/My Heart Prostrate

by Louisa Catherine Shore

MY HEART PROSTRATE

My heart, prostrate with agony,
 Lies so exhausted here,
It cannot sigh another sigh,
 Nor weep another tear.

But all the same th' undying worm
 Is busy with his prey,
Is busy with the hidden harm
 That works unseen decay.

I perished long and long ago
 In heart and soul and mind;
The body, unsubdued, by woe
 Is lingering still behind.