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- THE SAD SHEPHERD
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- THERE was a man whom Sorrow named his Friend,
- And he, of his high comrade Sorrow dreaming,
- Went walking with slow steps along the gleaming
- And humming Sands, where windy surges wend:
- And he called loudly to the stars to bend
- From their pale thrones and comfort him, but they
- Among themselves laugh on and sing alway:
- And then the man whom Sorrow named his friend
- Cried out, i{Dim sea, hear my most piteous story.!}
- The sea Swept on and cried her old cry still,
- Rolling along in dreams from hill to hill.
- He fled the persecution of her glory
- And, in a far-off, gentle valley stopping,
- Cried all his story to the dewdrops glistening.
- But naught they heard, for they are always listening,
- The dewdrops, for the sound of their own dropping.
- And then the man whom Sorrow named his friend
- Sought once again the shore, and found a shell,
- And thought, I i{will my heavy story tell}
- i{Till my own words, re-echoing, shall send}
- i{Their sadness through a hollow, pearly heart;}
- i{And my own talc again for me shall sing,}
- i{And my own whispering words be comforting,}
- i{And lo! my ancient burden may depart.}
- Then he sang softly nigh the pearly rim;
- But the sad dweller by the sea-ways lone
- Changed all he sang to inarticulate moan
- Among her wildering whirls, forgetting him.
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