| 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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