I had a little Sorrow, Born of a little Sin, I found a room all damp with gloom And shut us all within; And, "Little Sorrow, weep," said I, "And, Little Sin, pray God to die, And I upon the floor will lie And think how bad I've been!" Alas for pious planning -- It mattered not a whit! As far as gloom went in that room, The lamp might have been lit! My little Sorrow would not weep, My little Sin would go to sleep -- To save my soul I could not keep My graceless mind on it! So up I got in anger, And took a book I had, And put a ribbon on my hair, To please a passing lad, And, "One thing there's no getting by -- I've been a wicked girl," said I; "But if I can't be sorry, why, I might as well be glad!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WINDHOVER: TO CHRIST OUR LORD by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS THE RUSTIC LAD'S LAMENT IN THE TOWN by DAVID MACBETH MOIR SONNET: 146 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE CENTAURS by JAMES STEPHENS TO THE RAILROAD MEN by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS A COLD TEMPERAMENT by WILLIAM ROSE BENET MONT DE CASSEL by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN DISCOURAGING by DANIEL CHAUNCEY BREWER THE ROCK OF LIBERTY; A PILGRIM ODE, 1620-1920: 2. STRUGGLE by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN |