|ELCore.Net > Poetry > Catholic Poets > Poems of Ernest Dowson|
I was not sorrowful, I could not weep,|
And all my memories were put to sleep.
I watched the river grow more white and strange,|
All day till evening I watched it change.
All day till evening I watched the rain|
Beat wearily upon the window pane.
I was not sorrowful, but only tired|
Of everything that ever I desired.
Her lips, her eyes, all day became to me|
The shadow of a shadow utterly.
All day mine hunger for her heart became|
Oblivion, until the evening came,
And left me sorrowful, inclined to weep,|
With all my memories that could not sleep.
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Lane Core Jr. (email@example.com)
Created November 12, 2002; not revised.