Poems (Linn)/Dissatisfied

by Edith Willis Linn

DISSATISFIED.

O sad, while the song-bird sweetly
 Proclaims the morning's light.
So sad, while the baby voices
 Babble a gay good night.

So sad for the ideal vanished,
 So sad for the far-off years;
So sad for the faint fulfillment,
 So sad for the causeless tears.

So sad for a lack of longing,
 Although the great ideal,
Which has led me ever onward,
 Is still beyond the real.