Arthur Henry Adams

6 December 1872 – 4 March 1936 / Lawrence / New Zealand

The World Has Grown So Grey

THE world has grown so grey, love,
The weary world so wide;
And autumn seems to stay, love—
'T was autumn when you died.
And everything is strange and new,
For all my world has died with you—
It lacks the light you gave.
And sad-eyed dusk awaits alway,
And the nights wedge in the narrow day
Like the walls of an open grave!
It was so cruel to go, love,
To leave me at your grave;
For Death can never know, love,
How hard 't is to be brave.
Sometimes I smile, my tears between,
For I see the still-born Might-Have-Been
That to your breast you've ta'en.
But memory wakes with a sudden start,
And the naked truth knells at my heart—
And the world grows grey again!
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