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AT SORROW'S WINDOW
AT Sorrow's window many faces be,
But one so gently young, so pure and fair,
That I must wonder in such place to see
That face, yet love it more for being there.
So might an angel look, who, earthward sent,
Our world of sordid cares and hopes to know,
Stands with an air of sad bewilderment
Discerning what we cherish here below!
One day in passing I looked up in vain,
From Sorrow's window looked that face no more,
"Dear Girl!" I cried, "you are gone home again,
But ah, this world is poorer than before!"
