A Song to Sorrow: A Poem
Improvement Era, vol. 2, no. 6, April 1899, p. 434
H., E.
434 IMPROVEMENT ERA.
on the other side there are grave questions to be considered. The American people need time to solve the question. That time comes to us in what is now announced as the policy of temporary occupation. Every day that we remain in Cuba will make it more difficult for us to withdraw. So, too, with the Philippines; how shall it be? Shall "we hand the islands over to England? Shall we surrender them to the insurgents to be picked up by Germany or Russia? The question would seem to be, not so much whether we are to keep the Philippines, as how we could get rid of them.
A SONG TO SORROW.
Sleep, Sorrow, sleep; the Earth is all too bright Today to heed thy voice, though thou shouldst cry From dawn till dusk. With brave persistency. Behold, yon breeze-bent beech leaves keep the lights They pilfered from the Sun. Joy claims the right To sing today, his instrument, the thrush. Who sweetly pipes, where hyacinths grow lush Below close hazels, flitting out of sight.
So sleep, pale Sorrow, let thy grudging face No more upbraid me with forgetfulness; Sleep, and content thee, since this little place I yield to Spring, amid the mournfulness
That fills my heart, waking, thou shalt not trace; Nor, in thy kingdom, find one shadow less. E. H.