Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/191



not sad, though sadness seem At times to cloud my brow; I cherished once a foolish dream— Thank Heaven, 'tis not so now. Truth's sunshine broke, And I awoke To feel 'twas right to bow To Fate's decree, and this my doom, The darkness of a Nameless Tomb.

I grieve not, though a tear may fill This glazed and vacant eye; Old thoughts will rise, do what we will, But soon again they die; An idle gush, And all is hush, The fount is soon run dry: And cheerly now I meet my doom, The darkness of a Nameless Tomb.