Is sadder than a frown, much sadder than

A tear, as it is hopeless. For a tear

{28}

Has a bright spot, wherein the sun may sparkle.

That smile is sunless, be it e'er so sweet.

And know ye not how wildly ye have called

On Death, and tried to catch him by the wing,

Or let yourself be trodden under foot

By him? And wrung your hands in agony,

When he had passed you by. Ye dare not tell

Your heart what it has suffered, dare not look

Into the past again, for fear of turning

To stone, for whitelipp'd fear of waking from

Its sleep that heart to make it throb again,

Like millstones. You remember! Ah! You see!

You even try to do away with pity,

For fear of being tortured yet again,

And shaken yet again, and no more able

To quiet that unruly heart, that learnt

To fear. Oh! Have ye never known what fear

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