Seeking Rest

My Mother said: "The child is changed
That used to be so still;
All the day long she sings and sings,
And seems to think no ill;
She laughs as if some inward joy
Her heart would overfill."

My Sisters said: " Now prythee tell
Thy secret unto us:
Let us rejoice with thee; for all
Is surely prosperous,
Thou art so merry: tell us, Sweet:
We had not used thee thus."

My Mother says: " What ails the child
Lately so blythe of cheer?
Art sick or sorry? Nay, it is
The winter of the year;
Wait till the Springtime comes again,
And the sweet flowers appear."

My Sisters say: " Come, sit with us.
That we may weep with thee:
Show us thy grief that we may grieve
Yea haply, if we see
Thy sorrow, we may ease it; but
Shall share it certainly."

How should I share my pain, who kept
My pleasure all my own?
My Spring will never come again;
My pretty flowers have blown
For the last time; I can but sit
And think and weep alone.