The Weakest Thing

Which is the weakest thing of all

Mine heart can ponder?

The sun, a little cloud can pall

With darkness yonder?

The cloud, a little wind can move

Whereer it listeth?

The wind, a little leaf above,

Though sere, resisteth?

What time that yellow leaf was green,

My days were gladder;

But now, whatever Spring may mean,

I must grow sadder.

Ah me! a leaf with sighs can wring

My lips asunder -

Then is mine heart the weakest thing

Itself can ponder.

Yet, Heart, when sun and cloud are pined

And drop together,

And at a blast, which is not wind,

The forests wither,

Thou, from the darkening deathly curse

To glory breakest, -

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