The sun rose dimly thro’ the pallid rain,
Dear Heart — and have we strength to face the day?
The times and life alike are old and grey,
All worn with long monotonies of pain.
Lo — we are working out the curse of Cain,
Who never felt the fire of passion's sway.
Ah — show us crimson in some tragic way
That we may live!— Fate laughed in her disdain.
A thread of scarlet clashed upon mine eyes
Hung for a moment and was swept behind,
And blankly I beheld the hopeless skies
For day by contrast now is grimmest night —
Remembering light as do the newly blind
I pray for death to hide the bitter sight.