That Sorrow Like A Frost

That sorrow like a frost chill'd all my blood
Dried up the sources of my tears and made
My very heart seem hard : in vain I pray'd ;
I could not ease my spirit though I would
And sick of one familiar neighbourhood,
I hid myself, sought out some quiet shade
Wherein to bury youth and hope decay'd ;
For all my heart despair'd of any good.

I knew not if the world had harden'd me,
Or sorrow made me prematurely old,
Stricken with helplessness, if not with years ;
But suddenly some flash of memory
Brought back old days, old dreams, old loves untold ---
And then, oh then, the blessedness of tears !

Written by
George Cotterell


Born in 1839, George Cotterell wrote a number of popular poems. He died in 1898 leaving us with some wonderful  works as a part of his legacy.