“After great pain, a formal feeling comes – “
After a great loss, an informal feeling stings—
The nerves stretch taught, like strings—
The heart bursts out, why did I fall,
And ‘Should I be here at all’?
The Feet, restless, get lost
Down a dark way
Of Frost, or mud, or What—
An inky resentment like a spot—
This is the hour of Drink—
Survived, if not jailed,
As hung-over people, recollect the Night—
First Regret, then Shame, then bravely bearing the light.