Of Ill why should I borrow?
No matter where my footsteps bend
There also follows sorrow.
And she has taught my lips to sing
A rapt and dauntless measure
While all the world goes envying
My mellow noted treasure.
No, I have never walked alone!
And as I face tomorrow,
If I am bereft of joy
I know there will be sorrow.
Published in The Crisis, August 1925