Felix Dennis

Now! — will I wait no longer,
     Now! — will I say my piece;
No matter which be stronger,
     This living death must cease.

Here is the Hall of Hating,
     A folly filled with fears;
Here, the rack stands, waiting,
     For willing volunteers.

These are the Walls of Malice
     Which shun the heart’s relief;
And this, a Poisoned Chalice
     To toast the Worm of Grief.

There is the Chair of Musing,
     A selfish thing of stone;
And here the Stairs of Choosing —
     Think you you grieve alone?

Speak! — and be done with weeping,
     Cast off this mourning band.
Upstairs, our child is sleeping —
     Come dearest, take my hand.