Esther A Sonnet Sequence III

A little honey!

Ay, a little sweet,

A little pleasure when the years were young,

A joyous measure trod by dancing feet,

A tale of folly told by a loved tongue.

These are the things by which our hearts are wrung More than by tears.

Oh,

I would rather laugh,

So I had not to choose such tales among Which was most laughable.

Man's nobler half Resents mere sorrow.

I would rather sit With just the common crowd that watch the play And mock at harlequin and the clown's wit,

And call it tragedy and go my way.

I should not err, because the tragic part Lay not in these, but sealed in my own heart.