THE CLAIM.
I.
GRIEF sate upon a rock and sighed one day:
(Sighing is all her rest!)
"Wellaway, wellaway, ah, wellaway!"
As ocean beat the stone, did she her breast. . .
"Ah, wellaway! . . ah me! alas, ah me!"
Such sighing uttered she.
II.
A Cloud spake out of heaven, as soft as rain
That falls on water; "Lo,
The Winds have wandered from me! I remain
Alone in the sky-waste, and cannot go
To lean my whiteness on the mountain blue,
Till wanted for more dew.
III.
"The Sun has struck my brain to weary peace,
Whereby, constrained and pale,
I spin for him a larger golden fleece
Than Jason's, yearning for as full a sail!
Sweet Grief, when thou hast sighed to thy mind,
Give me a sigh for wind,—