[PENALTY.]
Because of the fullness of what I had
All that I have seems void and vain.
If I had not been happy I were not sad;
Though my salt is savorless, why complain?
From the ripe perfection of what was mine,
All that is mine seems worse than naught;
Yet I know as I sit in the dark and pine,
No cup could be drained which had not been fraught.
From the throb and thrill of a day that was,
The day that now is seems dull with gloom;
Yet I bear its dullness and darkness because
'Tis but the reaction of glow and bloom.
From the royal feast which of old was spread
I am starved on the diet which now is mine;
Yet I could not turn hungry from water and bread,
If I had not been sated on fruit and wine.
[LIFE.]
An infant wailing in nameless fear;
A shadow, perchance, in the quiet room,
Or the hum of an insect flying near.
Or the screech-owl's cry, in the outer gloom.
A little child on the sun-checked floor,
A broken toy, and a tear-stained face,
A young life clouded, a young heart sore;
And the great clock, time, ticks on apace.
A maiden weeping in bitter pain.
Two white hands clasped on an aching brow.
A blighted faith and a fond hope slain,
A shattered trust and a broken vow.
A matron holding a baby's shoe.
The hot tears gather, and fall at will
On the knotted ribbon of white and blue,
For the foot that wore it is cold and still.