sympathy poem

the darkness rolls upward
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
do you remember
high-born race
there by the window in the old house
she might have known it in the earlier spring
those black eyes i once so praised
once this soft turf
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
suddenly, out of dark and leafy ways
i stood by the open casement
with the sunset