On Sorrow and Content (2016)

When sadness softly veils my inner eye
And darkens things perceived with its own hue
Chilling my sense, as when the evening dew
Falls cold upon the grass, then I deny
My happy state, and dimly I descry
All that I once did wish, no longer true–
Love and renown; so darkening in hue
Sorrow, as darkling stalks the night; the sky
At last is black, but for the stars, they smile
Quite inaccessible as longing vain
And seem the author of my every woe:
Mistaken, I my better sense beguile
And blame mischance for mine own inner pain
Which suffering content alike must know.