My Heart and I

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    <strong>My Heart and I</strong>

    I.

    ENOUGH ! were tired, my heart and I.

    We sit beside the headstohus,

    And wish that name were c<figure>.９９ｌｉb.</figure>arved for us.

    The moss reprints more tenderly

    The hard types of the masons knife,

    As heavens sweet life renews earths life

    With which were tired, my heart and I.

    II.

    You see were tired, my heart and I.

    We dealt with books, we trusted men,

    And in our own blood drehe pen,

    As if such colours could not fly.

    We walked toht for fortunes end,

    We loved too true to keep a friend ;

    At last were tired, my heart and I.

    III.

    How tired we feel, my heart and I !

    We seem of no use in the world ;

    Our fancies hang grey and uncurled

    About mens eyes indifferently ;

    Our voice which thrilled you so, will let

    You sleep; our tears are only wet :

    What do we <u>.９9liｂ.</u>here, my heart and I ?

    IV.

    So tired, so tired, my heart and I !

    It was not thus in that old time

    When Ralph sat with me h the lime

    To watch the su from the sky.

    `Dear love, youre looking tired, he said;

    I, smiling at him, shook my head :

    Tis now were <details>.99lib.</details>tired, my heart and I.

    V.

    So tired, so tired, my heart and I !

    Though now akes me on his arm

    To fold me close and kiss me warm

    Till each quick breath end in a sigh

    Of happy languor. Now, alone,

    We lean upon this graveyard stone,

    Uncheered, unkissed, my heart and I.

    VI.

    Tired out we are, my heart and I.

    Suppose the world brought diadems

    To tempt us, crusted with loose gems

    Of powers and pleasures ? Let<s></s> it try.

    We scarcely care to look at even

    A pretty child, ods blue heaven,

    We f<cite></cite>eel so tired, my heart and I.

    VII.

    Yet who plains ? My heart and I ?

    In this abundah no doubt

    Is little room for things worn out :

    Disdain them, break them, throw them by

    And if before the days grew rough

    We once were loved, used, -- well enough,

    I think, weve fared, my heart and I.

    <strong>Elizabeth Barrett Browning</strong>

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