The Son of Sorrow.

A Fable From the Swedish.

All lonely, excluded from Heaven,1
Sat Sorrow one day on the strand ;2
And, mournfully buried in thought,3
Form’d a figure of clay with her hand.4
Jove appeared.  “ What is this ?” he demands ;5
She replied.  “ ’Tis a figure of clay.6
Show thy pow’r on the work of my hand ;7
Give it life, mighty Father, I pray !”8
Let him live !” said the God.  “ But observe,9
As I lend him, he mine must remain,”10
Not so,” Sorrow said, and implor’d,11
“Oh ! let me my offspring retain !12
’Tis to me his creation he owes.”13
Yes,” said Jove, “but’twas I gave him breath.”14
As he spoke, Earth appears on the scene,15
And, observing the image, thus saith :16
From me—from my bosom he’s torn,17
I demand, then, what’s taken from me.18
This strife shall be settled,” said Jove ;19
Let Saturn decide ’tween the three.”20
This sentence the Judge gave.  “ To all21
He belongs, so let no one complain ;22
The life, Jove, Thou gav’st him shalt Thou23
With his soul, when he dies, take again.24
Thou, Earth, shalt receive back his frame,25
At peace in thy lap he’ll recline ;26
But during his whole troubled life,27
He shall surely, O Sorrow, be thine !28
His features thy look shall reflect ;29
Thy sigh shall be mixed with his breath ;30
And he ne’er shall be parted from thee31
Until he reposes in death !”32


The sentence of Heaven, then is this :33
And hence Man lies under the sod ;34
Though Sorrow possesses him, living35
He returns both to Earth and to God.36