Sonnets in Time of Trial

I

Queer! there was no premonitory twitch,
No twangling of my nerves, to advertise
All you would mean to me: contrariwise,
Full-blown your passion seized me: passion which
Made our relation so supremely rich
In yearning, wild remorses, and surprise.
And yet I uttered hardly any cries
When Pain danced tiptoe in her pallid niche.

O bitter my immedicable woe —
And must I lose you? Ah, I could not tell!
Chimerical seemed life and love and youth.
I never knew that I could suffer so
Until I ate that chocolate caramel
And throbbed with you, O sorely stricken tooth!

II

I felt that crumbling, teetering thrill again:
Life was a nausea, earth a black disgrace;
The sunlight was offensive to my face;
Man, made of mud, and conduited for pain.
I longed to probe through tissue, nerve and vein
And with some thin, sharp instrument to chase
This lurking fiend of torment from his place
And free the devil tugging at his chain.

A shaking, shuddering pang, and I was shent;
It seemed to split my skull, without a warning;
I thought: I hope I'll soon be dead, by Jove!
I took my hat and stick, and out I went.
The druggist, as I bought some oil of clove,
Said, " What a jolly, sunny Sunday morning! "
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