Recently in Sorrow Category

Is there never a spot so low, so low,
In the great earth centres where we might go
   And be alone for an hour?
Is there never a cloud so high, so high,
Never a cloud in the smiling sky
   To moisten a thirsty flower?

Is there never a secret, silent grove,
Just for a place to meet and love
   One hour of summer weather;
Just for a heart to fold a heart,
Just for a little --- not apart,
   But life and soul together?

Is there never relenting in God's big heart?
Is the fiat "For ever apart, apart,"
   And never the lips replying;
Only the anguish whitely mute,
And the life of a sullen soulless brute
   And the unsatisfied dying?

First published in The Queenslander, 5 December 1896

Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography

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