My Heart and I

I.

ENOUGH ! were tired, my heart and I.

We sit beside the headstone thus,

And wish that name were carved for us.

The moss reprints more tenderly

The hard types of the masons knife,

As heavens sweet life renews earths life

With which were tired, my heart and I.

II.

You see were tired, my heart and I.

We dealt with books, we trusted men,

And in our own blood drenched the pen,

As if such colours could not fly.

We walked too straight for fortunes end,

We loved too true to keep a friend ;

At last were tired, my heart and I.

III.

How tired we feel, my heart and I !

We seem of no use in the world ;

Our fancies hang grey and uncurled

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