Josephine Preston Peabody (Жозефина Престон Пибоди)
The Sorrows
If This is all it will be like,
I wish to Die;--I don't care how--
While I am very, very young;
As young as almost Now.
They never felt what Sorrow was;
Or never learned their Golden Rule;
They say, _These are your happiest days_,
--With School,--School,--School!
When Saturday's all out of breath
With all the week before in sight;--
And Monday coming after you
Spoils every Sunday night!
And Nothing done but yesterdays;
And Nothing coming but to-morrows!
Don't cheer me up. Please let me be.
--I have the Sorrows.
Josephine Preston Peabody’s other poems:
