Far in the cradling sky, <br />Dawn opes his baby eye, <br />Then I awake and cry, <br />Woe is me! <br /> <br /> <br />Morn, the young hunter gay, <br />Chases the shadows gray, <br />Then I go forth and say, <br />Woe is me! <br /> <br /> <br />Noon! drunk with oil and wine, <br />Tho' not a grief is thine, <br />Yet shalt thou shake with mine! <br />Woe is me! <br /> <br /> <br />Eve kneeleth sad and calm, <br />Bearing the martyr's palm; <br />I shriek above her psalm, <br />Woe is me! <br /> <br /> <br />Night, hid in her black hair <br />From eyes she cannot dare, <br />Lies loud with fierce despair; <br />Then I sit silent where <br />She cries from her dark lair <br />Woe is me!<br /><br />Sydney Thompson Dobell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/woe-is-me-9/
