Page:Ethel Churchill Fragments I.pdf/26



My heart is filled with bitter thought, My eyes would fain shed tears; I have been thinking upon past, And upon future years.

Years past—why should I stir the depths Beneath their troubled stream? And years that are as yet to come, Of them I dread to dream.

Yet wherefore pause upon our way? 'Tis best to hurry on; For half the dangers that we fear, We face them, and they're gone.