IN TIME OF SORROW

Despair is in the suns that shine, And in the rains that fall, This sad forsaken soul of mine Is weary of them all.

They fall and shine on alien streets From those I love and know. I cannot hear amid the heats The North Sea's freshening flow

The people hurry up and down, Like ghosts that cannot lie; And wandering through the phantom town The weariest ghost am I.