HAVING certain cares to drown, <br />To the sea I took them down: <br />And I threw them in the wave, <br />That engulfed them like a grave. <br /> <br />Swiftly then I plied the oar <br />With a light heart to the shore. <br /> <br />But behind me came my foes: <br />Like a nine-days’ corpse each rose, <br /> <br />And (a ghastly sight to see!) <br />Clutched the boat and grinned at me! <br /> <br />With a heavy heart, alack, <br />To the land I bore them back. <br /> <br />Not in Water or in Wine <br />Can I drown these cares of mine. <br /> <br />But some day, for good and sure, <br />I shall bury them secure, <br /> <br />Where the soil is rich and brown, <br />With a stone to keep them down, <br /> <br />And to let their end be known, <br />Have my name carved on the stone; <br /> <br />So that passers-by may say, <br />“Here lie cares that had their day,” <br /> <br />And sometimes by moonlight wan, <br />I may sit that stone upon— <br /> <br />With a spectre’s solemn phlegm— <br />In my shroud, and laugh at them; <br /> <br />Or—who knows, when all is said?— <br />Maybe weep because they’re dead.<br /><br />Victor James Daley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cares/
