Here you will find the Poem Grey of poet Archibald Thomas Strong
LADY of Sorrow! What though laughing blue, Thy sister, mock men?s anguish, and the sun Glare like a wrathful judge on many a one That longs for night his bitter shame to rue, Yet dost thou grant thy mercy of mist and dew And cloud and calm ere angry day be done, Weaving over the vault the weary shun Thy veil of peace, with pity trembling through. When all light loves and all brave hues are flown, When beaten hope falls from the reeling fight, And life is lone upon her desolate way, And noon is fierce, and no men see aright, Then weary eyes turn unto thee, their own, Lady of Grief, the soul?s madonna, Grey. II Yet not in sorrow only art thou fair, For joy may know and love thee in the pall Of spray that slumbers on the waterfall, Or in low cottage-smoke in evening air Or in brave stone carven in glory rare, Or when the tender mists of Autumn fall Dappling the mead with beauty, and the tall Stark dreaming oaks thine ancient livery wear. Yet none hath known thy loveliness aright Save him who gazing in his lady?s eyes Sees dim lists tossing with plumes of many a knight And woods where elfin waters gleam and glance, And all the vision and faith of old romance And the great dream of youth that never dies.