Poems (Taggart)/Sorrow

by Cynthia Taggart

For works with similar titles, see Sorrow.

SORROW.

O Sorrow! bitter, dreaded draught,
Must I ne'er drink but of thy cup?—
And though I drank of thee alone,
I ne'er could drink thine anguish up.

Thy chalice ever will remain
As full as when I tasted first,
And others have as large a share,
Though my embittered heart should burst.