Kin to Sorrow

Am I kin to Sorrow, That so oft Falls the knocker of my door — Neither loud nor soft,

But as long accustomed, Under Sorrow's hand? Marigolds around the step And rosemary stand,

And then comes Sorrow — And what does Sorrow care For the rosemary Or the marigolds there?

Am I kin to Sorrow? Are we kin? That so oft upon my door — Oh, come in !