I Have Climbed Up The Mountain Of Despair

I have climbed up the mountain of despair Oft – too oft perhaps for me Too many bitter cups of grief I drunk Too few the days of calm I joyed. My flower of youth I wasted more Than time and age could Too many bitter cups of grief I drunk Too few the days of calm I joyed. Too many nights of weirdness I had When bad dreams chased all sleep away: And the black firmament like a cold wall Smiled at me where’er I trod and went Railing and deriding my despair. Too many storms of green my vessel has Weathered and been buffeted into Too many a water wraith and ghost Saw I in my mountain of despair: Too many a field with corpses have I dreamed Strewn and divided all irregular: Too many a stormy sea with corpses I Have dreamed swollen and strewn amidst the wrecks: Too many a field with crosses in rows decked And yew-clad cemeteries solitaire I dreamed. Too many a monster new unheard unseen By previous eyes or ears have I met To many a deed and mishap have I been Nor have been spared a son’s grief and despair And now my father lies low in earth. And now it seems that few black days remain And blacker days on black days follow suit Pointing with every day a-down and down: My heart now too hard for tears is; my eyes Are dry as desert sands or milked breasts My throat is parched with the last dryness weird. I have ascended the mountain of despair.