Sonnet from the Psalms

All through the livelong night I lay awake,
Watering my couch with tears of heaviness.
None stood beside me in my sore distress: --
Then cried I to my heart: If thou wilt, break,
But be thou still; no moaning will I make.
Nor ask man's help, nor kneel that he may bless.
So I kept silence in my haughtiness,
Till lo the fire was kindled, and I spake- --
Saying: Oh that I had wings like to a dove.
Then would I flee away and be at rest:
I would not pray for friends or hope or love,
But still the weary throbbing of my breast:
And, gazing on the changeless heavens above,
Witness that such a quietness is best.