Philosophies — Impatience

Vain drug!

If I am sick Can others’ sickness heal?

Or dead, death make me quick?

I care not what they feel.

What reck I?

Let me go.

Is not my bosom full?

The sorrow that I know Makes others’ sorrow dull.

I will shut up the soul, For only joy is just.

Stones with the river roll, And we ev’n as we must.

Why should I think of thee, O Wisdom, and thy lies?

Better laugh and foolish be Than laugh not and be wise.

The wild-birds heed thee not;

Of thee no torrents roar;

The deep seas know no jot Of all thy little lore;

But man who cannot ’scape To follow thee and trust, Thou takest by the nape And grindest in the dust.

* * * * * WORLD-SORROWS