Kin to Sorrow
Am I kin to Sorrow,That so oftFalls the knocker of my door—Neither loud nor soft,But as long accustomed,Under Sorrow's hand?Marigolds around the stepAnd rosemary stand,And then comes Sorrow—And what does Sorrow careFor the rosemaryOr the marigolds there?Am I kin to Sorrow?Are we kin?That so oft upon my door—*Oh, come in*!
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