—“I WISH thee happy”—O, my dear,
Foreboding sits upon my heart—and fear
To speak those words. I know not what I do
In wishing so.
Terrible are the happy upon earth,
They from their birth,
Encircled by a dream of beauty go.
What makes their mirth?
Who is there that doth know?
The whole world weeps for it in speechless woe.