The Conservative (Lovecraft)/April 1916/The Night Wind Bared My Heart

​

The Night Wind Bared My Heart.

The Night Wind bared my heart;
I felt the old, keen smart
Of grief: cold Mem'ry's eyes
Her subtle misery plies
With art!

​

The Day Wind heal'd the smart
That fasten'd on my heart;
But, Oh, from grief was prest
The Joys that from my breast
Depart!

Winifred Virginia Jordan.

This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.