Sorrowful Dreams by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sorrowful dreams remembered after waking

Shadow with do lout all the candid day; Even as I read, the silly tears out-breaking

Splash on my hands and shut the page away. .

Grief at the root, a dark and secret dolour, / Harder to bear than wind-and-weather grief, / Clutching the rose, draining its cheek of colour, / Drying the bud, curling the opened leaf. Deep is the pond-although the edge be shallow, / Frank in the sun, revealing fish and stone, / Climbing ashore to turtle-head and mallow-

Black at the centre beats a heart unknown.

Desolate dreams pursue me out of sleep;

Weeping I wake; waking, I weep, I weep.