John Ireland — I Was Not Sorrowful Spleen

I was not sorrowful, I could not weep And all my memories were put to sleep I watched the river grow more white and strange All day till evening I watched it change All day till evening I watched the rain Beat wearily upon the window pane I was not sorrowful, but only tired Of everything that ever I desired Her lips, her eyes, all day became to me The shadow of a shadow utterly All day [mine]1 hunger for her heart became Oblivion, until the evening came And left me sorrowful, inclined to weep With all my memories that could not sleep