Irreparable

The soiTow of all sorrows Was never sung or said, Though many a poet borrows The mourning of tlie dead, And darkJy bunes pleasure In some melodious measure. The loss of youth is saduess To all who think or feel, - A wound no after gladness Can ever wholly heal ; And vet, so mamy share it We learn at last to bear it. The faltering and the failing Of friends is sadder stiil ; For friends grown foes, assailing Know when and where to kill ; But souls themselves sustaining, Have still a friend remainmg I The death of those who love us, And those we love, is sore : But think tliey are above us, Or think they are no more, - We bear the blows that sever We caiinot weep forever ! The sorrow of all sorrows Is deeper than all these, And all that anguish borrows Upon its bended knees ; No tears nor prayers relieve it, No ioving vows deceive it. It is one day to waken And find that love is flown, And cannot be o'ertaken, And we are íeft alone : - No wo that can be spoken, No haart that can be broken. No wish for love's returning, Or something in its atead ; No missing it, and yearning As for the dearer dead : No yesterday, no morrow, - But everlastinff sorrow !