I fain would outpour all my sorrows

I fain would outpour all my sorrows

In a single word to-day.

To the merry winds I would trust it,

They would merrily bear it away.

They would bear it to thee, my darling,

The word of sorrowful grace.

Thou should'st hear it at ever hour,

Thous shouldst hear it in every place.

And scarce in the midnight darkness

Shouldst thou close thine eyes in sleep,

Ere my whispered word, it would follow,

Though thy dream were ever so deep.