I have envied, I have pitied,
Wrapped their sorrows over me
Like a shawl, to keep from knowing
Cold that is colder than the sea.

I have raised my face to ice winds
That froze the laughter in their eyes,
Heard the break of storm that bowed them
With the wisdom of its cries.

And the black storm and the whirlwind
That have made them wise and old,
Even so have worn and shaped me,
And have wrapped me from the cold.