Verse > Anthologies > Andrew Macphail, ed. > The Book of Sorrow
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Andrew Macphail, comp.  The Book of Sorrow.  1916.
 
XXIV. Bitter Sorrow
From ‘The Affliction of Margaret ——’
By William Wordsworth (1770–1850)
 
[See full text.]

I LOOK for ghosts; but none will force
Their way to me: ’tis falsely said
That there was ever intercourse
Between the living and the dead;
For, surely, then I should have sight        5
Of him I wait for day and night,
With love and longings infinite.
 
My apprehensions come in crowds;
I dread the rustling of the grass;
The very shadows of the clouds        10
Have power to shake me as they pass:
I question things and do not find
One that will answer to my mind;
And all the world appears unkind.
 
Beyond participation lie        15
My troubles, and beyond relief:
If any chance to heave a sigh,
They pity me, and not my grief.
Then come to me, my Son, or send
Some tidings that my woes may end;        20
I have no other earthly friend!
 
 
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