Poems (Hazlett-Bevis)/So Tired

by Sophia Courtoulde Hazlett-Bevis

So Tired.

So tired of watching and waiting
 And hoping for happier things;
Pale hands, their own story relating,
 Lie clasped like two folded wings.
  So Tired.

So tired. So weary of toiling
 With always a purpose in view;
So tired, when naught but recoiling
 Comes back to a heart warm and true.
  So Tired.

So tired, when daily come shadows,
 Where only the sunlight should gleam,
With never a walk through green meadows,
 Or a glimpse of life's beautiful dream.
  So Tired.

So tired, heart-hungry, starving,
 So care-hedged, misunderstood:
Yet bravely a bright future carving
 By deeds of the purest and good.
  So Tired.

So tired, when patient endurance
 Brings naught but a handful of dross,
As "hope deferred"with ah upward glance,
 Sinks low, without profit, but loss.
  So Tired.

So tired, and perhaps, fruition
 So tardy, may come not at all;
Why should one. all Love and Ambition,
 Be driven so close to the wall?
  So Tired.

So tired, that after these many years,
 With phantom-like gleams in the hair,
And eyes grown dull with scalding tears,
 Earth's promises proved but a snare.
  So Tired.

So tired. Perhaps in His kindness,
 The pitying leather above
Led us away, in our blindness,
 From a path that would ne'er reach His love.
  So Tired.

So tired: but somehow the knowing
 A life had been well spent and clean,
That sometime the pearls we've been sowing
 Will rival the moonlight's sheen.
  Somewhere we'll not be tired.