Wednesday, September 23, 2020

TIRED - by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

 




TIRED

by  Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox



    I am tired tonight, and something,
    The wind maybe, or the rain,
    Or the cry of a bird in the copse outside,
    Has brought back the past, and its pain.
    And I feel, as I sit here thinking,
    That the hand of a dead old June
    Has reached out hold of my heart's loose strings,
    And is drawing them up in tune.


    I am tired tonight, and I miss you,
    And long for you, love, through tears;
    And it seems but today that I saw you go - 
    You, who have been gone for years.
    And I seem to be newly lonely - 
    I, who am so much alone;
    And the strings of my heart are well in tune,
    But they have not the same old tone.


    I am tired; and that old sorrow
    Sweeps down the bed of my soul,
    As a turbulent river might suddenly break
    Away from a dam's control.
    It beareth a wreck on its bosom,
    A wreck with a snow-white sail,
    And the hand on my heart-strings thrums away,
    But they only respond with a wail.