Poems (Shore)/Sonnet—The O'erburdened Soul

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SONNET—THE O'ERBURDENED SOUL
Where art thou going, thou o'erburdened soul, With that exceeding sorrow on thy brow? I know thee that thy spirit walketh now,Clad like a mourner in his sable stoleWith those old sins, whose thousand voices roll Floods of reproach upon thee, until thou Art fain to fling thyself to earth and bowBeneath the shock thou seek'st not to control.Oh, follow not that broken-hearted ghost So far into the desert of Despair.Not such the atonement to the dead thou ow'st. For whose sake make the living souls thy care.Go forth redeeming each past drop of hersBy scattering round thy path kind words to present tears.
 April 14, 1844.
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