The Tears Not Raining

Two tear-rivers diverged in a dark wood,  
And sorry I could not dam it both    
And be it I’ve longed to change; I should,      
And with parting eyelids, as far as I could      
To where I tear in the rain;    
     
Then locked both the eyelids, as just as teary,      
And quench perhaps their better cry,      
Because it was thundery, and wanted misery;    
Though as for that within the passing the rain I was sly    
Had falling tear-showers really be from the sinking sky,      
     
And both his eyes on the world equally keen    
In rain no tears had trodden seen.      
Oh, sorrowed storms hid his bursting poetic-stream!    
Yet knowing how sobbing leads onto wandering,      
If ever should come back the sun, he’d be gone.    
     
I shall be telling this with a hesitance    
But somewhere ages and ages ago he died:    
Two tear-rivers diverged in his poetic, blizzardy-mind,    
Succumbing to the one less sufferance    
And that has solaced all the difference.      
 
 
#RobertFrost