Poems (Cromwell)/The Circle

For works with similar titles, see Circle.
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THE CIRCLE
My grief comes back after an interval Of years. How strong it seems! Is my defeat Assured and final still? Shall I repeat My failure? Am I ever sorrow's thrall? Sometimes old griefs can loom again so tall We are afraid of kindness, and the sweet New truth of love we cannot bear to meet;—Our past would seem to bold us after all. We know men go in circles when they're lost: My grief must prove that I have gone astray. I cross again the very path I crossed Before! I stand abreast of the old pain: I am not changed. I am as yesterday, And feel the weight of my old sorrow's chain.
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