Sonnet Written to Bouts-rimes (Ah welladay and wherefore am I here)

Ah welladay and wherefore am I here?
I sit alone all day, I sit and think --
I watch the sun arise, I watch it sink.
And feel no soul-light, though the day is clear.
Surely it is a folly, it is mere
Madness, to stand for ever on the brink
Of dark despair, and yet not break the link
That makes me scorned who cannot be held dear.
I will have done with it; I will not stand
And fear on without hope, and tremble thus,
Look for the break of day and miss it ever.
Although my heart be broken, they shall never
Say, " She was glad to sojourn among us,
Thankful if one would take her by the hand."