The heavy bnrden of their care.
The father's heart may harden so,
He feeleth not his own child's woe.
'So ocean is the cup, no sea.
To drown my broad, deep misery.
It grows so rank, you cut it all.
The aftermath springs just as tall.
My heart and flesh are worn away,
Mine eyes are darkened from the day.
The lovely moming-red behold
Wave to the breeie her flag of gold.
The hosts of stars above the world,
Like banners vanishing are furled.
The dew shines bright ; I bide forlorn.
And shudder with the chill of mom.
WINE AND GRIEF
With heavy groans did I approach my friends,
Heavy as though the mountains I would move.
The flagon they were murdering : they poured
Into the eup, wild-eyed, the grape's red blood.
No, they killed not, they breathed new life therein.
Then, too, in fiery rapture, burned my veins,
But soon the fumes ha^ fled. In vain, in vain !
Ye cannot fill the breach of the rent heart.
Ye crave a sensuous joy ; ye strive in vain
To cheat with flamea of passion, my despur.
