Verse > Anthologies > Andrew Macphail, ed. > The Book of Sorrow
Andrew Macphail, comp.  The Book of Sorrow.  1916.
XXIII. Grief
‘I have no wealth of grief’
By Lucy Knox (1845–1884)
I HAVE no wealth of grief; no sobs, no tears,
  Not any sighs, no words, no overflow
  Nor storms of passion, no reliefs; yet oh!
I have a leaden grief, and with it fears
Lest they who think there ’s nought where nought appears        5
  May say I never loved him. Ah not so!
  Love for him fills my heart; if grief is slow
In utterance, remember that for years
Love was a habit and the grief is new,
  So new a thing it has no language yet.        10
  Tears crowd my heart: with eyes that are not wet
I watch the rain-drops, silent, large, and few,
  Blotting a stone; then, comforted, I take
  Those drops to be my tears, shed for his sake.

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