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 remainAs full as when I tasted first,And others have as large a share,Though my embittered heart should burst.