Poetry Archives

Go I must along my ways
  Though my heart be ragged,
Dripping bitter through the days,
  Festering, and jagged.
Smile I must at every twinge,
  Kiss, to time its throbbing;
He that tears a heart to fringe
  Hates the noise of sobbing.

Weep, my love, till Heaven hears;
  Curse and moan and languish.
While I wash your wound with tears,
  Ease aloud your anguish.
Bellow of the pit in Hell
  Where you’re made to linger.
There and there and well and well—
  Did he prick his finger!