30 MAY 1891, Page 16

POETRY.

SORROW.

SORROW came to him with a pleading face ; He would not rise and bid her enter in ; She seemed to claim in him too large a space, And be was careless, full of mirth and sin.

So passed she onward. Then it chanced one day, When Autumn winds in woods were making moan, Again did gentle Sorrow fare that way, And heard him mourning, for his love had flown. So once again she sought him. Reckless, rude, He bade her enter. Then, with stately mien She passed, and took possession like a queen, And seemed not sorrow, but a joy subdued : Bringing a shadow, yet, as shadows are, A blessing, cast from some great light afar.

A. G.