C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Equations
By Harriet Prescott Spofford (18351921)
Y
Not a place in it for any sorrow,
Sunshine with no shadow to come after—
Wait, O mad one, wait until to-morrow!
Only gloom in all the colors seven,
Every wind across a new grave creeping—
Think, O sad one, yesterday was heaven!
Y
Seeking Joy from happy sky to sky;
I met Sorrow coming down a byway—
What had she to do with such as I?
Waited for me on the widening way,
Threw aside her shrouding veil and vesture—
Joy had turned to Sorrow’s self that day!
I
And give me love, and give me double,
Shall I not also at his hand
Take trouble?
The lightnings of his great will thrusting,
Shall I not, dying at his hand,
Die trusting?