Weary

Weary of the ceaseless war
Beating down the baffled soul,-
Thoughts that like a scimitar
Smite us fainting at the goal.

Weary of the joys that pain —
Dead sea fruits whose ashes fall,
Drying up the summer's rain —
Charnel dust in cups of gall !

Weary of the hopes that fail,
Leading from the narrow way,
Tempting strength to actions frail —
Hand to err, and foot to stray.

Weary of the battling throng,
False and true in mingled fight ;
Weary of the wail of wrong,
And the yearning for the night !

Weary, weary, weary Heart !
Lacerated, crush'd and dumb.
None to know thee as thou art !
When will rest unbroken come ?