OW, on wing through the world for ever,
Here and there for awhile would
Rest, if rest might haply deliver Sorrow.
One thought lies close in her heart gnawn
With pain, a weed in a dried-up river,
A rust-red share in an empty furrow.
Hearts that strain at her chain would
The link where yesterday frets to-morrow:
All things pass in the world, but never Sorrow.
