Page:Twilight Hours (1868).djvu/172

 ORROW and sighing, sorrow and sighing, How can it happen that these should pass Out of a world where the flowers lie dying, Out of a world where all flesh is grass ? Sorrow and sighing, sorrow and sighing, Dear as the autumn, and fair as the rain. Sorrow and sighing, sorrow and sighing, Will they then cease, and our souls grow dull ? Sluggishly somnolent, torpidly lying, Lapped in the calm of a deep sea lull ? Sorrow and sighing, sorrow and sighing, — Should we not long for the thundering main ?