My Heart & I Lyrics

I.
Enough! we're tired, my heart and I.
       &nbspWe sit beside the headstone thus,
       &nbspAnd wish that name were carved for us.
The moss reprints more tenderly
       &nbspThe hard types of the mason's knife,
       &nbspAs heaven's sweet life renews earth's life
With which we're tired, my heart and I.

II.
You see we're tired, my heart and I.
       &nbspWe dealt with books, we trusted men,
       &nbspAnd in our own blood drenched the pen,
As if such colours could not fly.
       &nbspWe walked too straight for fortune's end,
       &nbspWe loved too true to keep a friend;
At last we're tired, my heart and I.

III.
How tired we feel, my heart and I!
       &nbspWe seem of no use in the world;
       &nbspOur fancies hang grey and uncurled
About men's eyes indifferently;
       &nbspOur voice which thrilled you so, will let
       &nbspYou sleep; our tears are only wet:
What do we here, my heart and I?

IV.
So tired, so tired, my heart and I!
       &nbspIt was not thus in that old time
       &nbspWhen Ralph sat with me 'neath the lime
To watch the sunset from the sky.
       &nbsp“Dear love, you're looking tired,” he said;
       &nbspI, smiling at him, shook my head: 'T is now we're tired, my heart and I.

V.
So tired, so tired, my heart and I!
       &nbspThough now none takes me on his arm
       &nbspTo fold me close and kiss me warm
Till each quick breath end in a sigh
       &nbspOf happy languor. Now, alone,
       &nbspWe lean upon this graveyard stone,
Uncheered, unkissed, my heart and I.

VI.
Tired out we are, my heart and I.
       &nbspSuppose the world brought diadems
       &nbspTo tempt us, crusted with loose gems
Of powers and pleasures? Let it try.
       &nbspWe scarcely care to look at even
       &nbspA pretty child, or God's blue heaven,
We feel so tired, my heart and I.

VII.
Yet who complains? My heart and I?
       &nbspIn this abundant earth no doubt
       &nbspIs little room for things worn out:
Disdain them, break them, throw them by!
       &nbspAnd if before the days grew rough
       &nbspWe once were loved, used,—well enough,
I think, we've fared, my heart and I.

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