The Castaways
The vivid grass with visible delight
Springing triumphant from the pregnant earth;
And butterflies, and sparrows in brief flight
Chirping and dancing for the season's birth,
And dandelions and rare daffodils
That hold the deep-stirred heart with hands of gold
And thrushes sending forth their joyous trills;
Not these, not these did I at first behold:
But seated on the benches daubed with green,
The castaways of earth, some fast asleep,
With many a withered woman wedged between,
And over all life's shadows dark and deep:
Moaning I turned away, for misery
I have the strength to bear but not to see.
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