Come, Melancholy

Come, Melancholy written by William Henry Davies

From "Poems 1930-1931", 1932

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Come, Melancholy, come, Delight:
Let's croak of misery, like a frog.
Let us pretend the window's shut
For the cat, and a door for the dog.

Let us pretend that every door's
Made fast, to all except the Bee -
Who finds a keyhole every time,
And passes in without a key.

Let us pretend that Life's a babe
All wrapt in clay, with pins of ice,
Without a nurse to tuck it in,
Or sooth it with a softer voice.

And when we have imagined these,
Refusing peace, and scorning mirth —
We'll light our pipes and blow a smoke
That casts a halo on our birth!

This work is in the public domain in countries where the copyright term is the author's life plus 70 years or less.