Verse > Anthologies > Andrew Macphail, ed. > The Book of Sorrow
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Andrew Macphail, comp.  The Book of Sorrow.  1916.
 
XXVII. Vain Longing
From ‘Maud’
By Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892)
 
O THAT ’twere possible
After long grief and pain
To find the arms of my true love
Round me once again!…
 
A shadow flits before me,        5
Not thou, but like to thee:
Ah Christ, that it were possible
For one short hour to see
The souls we loved, that they might tell us
What and where they be….        10
 
Half the night I waste in sighs,
Half in dreams I sorrow after
The delight of early skies;
In a wakeful doze I sorrow
For the hand, the lips, the eyes,        15
For the meeting of the morrow,
The delight of happy laughter,
The delight of low replies.
 
 
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