| Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916. | | | XXXIII. Resignation
Sorrow | | By William Patrick McKenzie (1861–1942) |
| | | SO long he walked a desert bleak and bare | |
| No added grief could rouse him to surprise; | |
| And one was with him in unseemly guise, | |
| Yet gentle-voiced, who led him from despair; | |
| He knew her mantle hid a face most fair, | 5 |
| He felt the veilèd glory of her eyes, | |
| And in the luxury of glad surmise | |
| Forgot his weariness and all his care. | |
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| At length uprose a portal dark before,— | |
| ‘I lead thee to the truth; its joy is thine’; | 10 |
| Then light burst forth whenas she swung the door, | |
| And so celestially her face did shine | |
| His heart was thrilled, and then he turned to go | |
| Joyward reluctant, for he loved her so! | | | | |
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