Poetry Archives

Said I to Pain: “You would not dare
              Do ill to me.”
Said Pain: “Poor fool! Why should I care
              Whom you may be?
To clown and king alike I bring
              My meed of bane;
Why should you shirk my chastening?”
                            Said Pain.
                            
Said I to Grief: “No tears have I,
              Go on your way.”
Said Grief: “Why should I pass you by,
              While others pay?
All men must know the way of woe,
              From saint to thief,
And tears were meant to overflow,”
                            Said Grief.

Said I to Death: “From ail and fret
              Grant me relief.”
Said Death: “I know you are beset
              By Pain and Grief.
But my good will you must await
              Since human breath
To suffering is consecrate,”
                            Said Death.

Said I to God: “Pale Sister Grief,
              Bleak Brother Pain,
Bedevil me beyond belief,
              And Death’s unfain . . .”
Said God: “Curse not that blessed Three,
              Poor human clod!
Have faith! Believe the One with Me,”
                            Said God.