Renascence and other poems/SORROW
SORROW
Sorrow like a ceaseless rain
Beats upon my heart..
People twist and scream in pain,-
Dawn will find them still again;
This has neither wax nor wane,
Neither stop nor start.
People dress and go to town;
I sit in my chair.
All my thoughts are slow and brown:
Standing up or sitting down
Little matters, or what gown
Or what shoes I wear.