Classic Poem

Consolation consoled depth,
A sob I sobbeth for more;
For my total temper is temper with thee:
Once again I sob at thy door.

I dare not believe half I say,
Lest the ideal fumble and crack
Such power in promise,
But sorrow and grief that lacks ...

A sip and another sip —
We can drink and ne'er feel vain;
The burden lieth before the past
To refresh and maintain.