Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE CALL OF SORROW, by CHARLES V. H. ROBERTS First Line: Beloved! In thine adversity there is Last Line: Oh! Why does thy bleeding compact cover all? Subject(s): Grief; Pain; Sorrow; Sadness; Suffering; Misery | ||||||||
Beloved! In thine adversity there is Not one will call thee friend. When mortal heart Beats outward for the healing touch, the little Things for its easing never come. Sorrow Is an Exile, which hath no portion in the time And tale and scorching brain of selfishness. If thou hast webs of laughter and dangling gold, Or credit on the rich man's scroll writ deep, And in thy house a sense of feasts and affectation Unconfessed,then thou hast many friends; Thy life goes on with splendid tendence; Thou art a shepherdess in the golden lights. But a sudden pause in entertainment, its glows And sighs and wines and visions delicate; Or hearken with thy gifts and jewels and favorite Robes, dazzling the longest corridors; Then thou shalt be with less friends,lingering In the sunlight, but each remembering. Let Sorrow come,the doorway of thy soul Flung open to the storm of life's great pain, Then thou must win another friend; Mad and knowing all, thy lords of pleasure Flash and elsewhere seek; thou art solitary, Untended, comfortless, and yetnot ended. O Spirit of Sorrow! with such majestic certainty Dost thou come in on all things human; Thine august angel before the compact of Our life was signed, breathed far off in stardust: Then our spirits quickened by the Word Of God, conceived and met thee. For a time We, clothed in mortal raiment, swoon to thy Bemoaning reeds and deepest chords of misery. Beloved, thy stirring bosom is besieged with grief, Sad sea-horizons of sorrow mystical, With wounds no human hand can ever close, Until thy soul beyond the ocean, weary, rests. Thy tear,each tear a solitaire, a pearl That vainly shimmers on the crimson reef Of pain,for a setting in the ring of Sympathy! Lose Health,thy gold will twine in loneliness; Thy most cherished arms that weaved about thy strength, In weakness waver; petals o'er-blown fly On the wind away to stronger stems. If thou Art ill, ill unto death, a mother's love Alone will shine,that unadorned, profound, Unselfish love. The deeper falls the darkness Of thy life, the brighter is its calm Enduring warmth. Forever half in lightning And in gloom, the maternal star in brilliance Unafraid grows stronger in the firmament of Sorrow. Ah! If we could be the things we are, And not the things we have! Our chattels, Gold, and songs are in themselves a nothingness, A glow that has a wasting flame, and yet Without, we are but ashes,living limbs, Wordless, handless, helpless, friendless, Groping for the spirit of Companionship. Oft Sorrow, art thou Victory, crowned in poverty, In fallen fortunes and the emptiness of aid; A tale of bitterness on barren stone, Those pangs of pain and utter deprivation, The flesh in sighs of jealousy composed; To reach and grasp and suffer for the joys Of life,those wistful, dreamful joys of life Attained by luxury only. Feebly, step By step, the roaming of these starving souls Casts a shadow for a moment; then Unassuaged they soar away unto Oblivion. O Talisman of Sorrow, winged through aeons From the thunder of a Self-existent Mind!groan and cry in the anguish Of the angels mutinied; in human bodies Broken, torn and mangled on the arenas Of Roman persecution; in the twilight of battle fields, Woman's shame and man's hypocrisy, Unpraised achievement, kindred disappointment, Memoried achings, bitter tragic losses. With thine august mournful smile, what art Thou Sorrow,thy sunset strangely pathetic o'er The world's most splendid lives; thy grief, regret, The vague centennials of thy shame? To saint And sin alike, thou dost cohere, Though weary is the heart within thy breast. Oh! Why does thy bleeding compact cover all? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PARTHENOPHIL AND PARTHENOPHE: MADRIGAL 14 by BARNABE BARNES SONNETS IN SHADOWS: 1 by ARLO BATES IN PRAISE OF PAIN by HEATHER MCHUGH THE SYMPATIZERS by JOSEPHINE MILES LEEK STREET by LAURE-ANNE BOSSELAAR A PROPOSAL by CHARLES V. H. ROBERTS |
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