The garb of all was worn and frayed,
With tatters grotesquely mended;
But flouting the world, and undismayed,
The three with fate contended.
They showed me how, by three-fold scoff,
When cares of life perplex us,
To smoke, or sleep, or fiddle them off,
And scorn the ills that vex us.
I passed them, but my gaze for long
Dwelt on the trio surly—
Their dark bronze features sharp and strong,
Their loose hair black and curly.
* * * * *
MY HEART[21] (1844)
Sleepless night, the rushing rain,
While my heart with ceaseless pain
Hears the mournful past subsiding
Or the uncertain future striding.
Heart, 'tis fatal thus to harken,
Let not fear thy courage darken,
Though the past be all regretting
And the future helpless fretting.
Onward, let what's mortal die.
Is the storm near, beat thou high.
Who came safe o'er Galilee
Makes the voyage now in thee.
* * * * *