0, in a world of men and women,
Where all things seemed so strange to me,
And speech the common world called human
For me was a vain mimicry,
I thought--O, am I one in sorrow ?
Or is the world more quick to hide
Their pain with raiment that they borrow
From pleasure in the house of pride ?
O joy of mine, 0 longed-for stranger,
How I would greet you if you came:
In the world's joys I've been a ranger,
In my world sorrow is their name.
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