Sorrow like a ceaseless rain
       &nbspBeats upon my heart.
People twist and scream in pain,—
Dawn will find them still again;
This has neither wax nor wane,
       &nbspNeither stop nor start.


People dress and go to town;
       &nbspI sit in my chair.
All my thoughts are slow and brown:
Standing up or sitting down
Little matters, or what gown
       &nbspOr what shoes I wear.