XII
Songs For Myself. Song Making
 

My heart cried like a beaten child
  Ceaselessly all night long;
I had to take my own cries
  And thread them into a song.

One was a cry at black midnight
  And one when the first cock crew --
My heart was like a beaten child,
  But no one ever knew.

Life, you have put me in your debt
  And I must serve you long --
But oh, the debt is terrible
  That must be paid in song.