There is a quiet in my heart
Like on who rests from days of pain.
Outside, the sparrows on the roof
Are chirping in the dripping rain.
Rain in my heart; rain on the roof;
And memory sleeps beneath the gray
And the windless sky and brings no
dreams
Of any well remembered day.
I would not have the heavens fair,
Nor golden clouds, nor breezes
mild,
But days like this, until my heart
To loss of you is reconciled.
I would not see you. Every hope
To know you as you were has
ranged.
I, who am altered, would not find
The face I loved so greatly changed.
Edgar Lee Masters
