ONLY a tiny dropping From a tiny hidden leak; But the flow is never stopping, And the flaw is far to seek. Only some trickling water, Nothing at all at first; But it grows to a valley-slaughter, For the reservoir has burst! The wild flood once in motion, Who shall arrest its course? As well restrain the ocean As that ungoverned force! Mourn for the desolations, And help the ruined men! Till next spring's fair creations Make the valley smile again. Help with a free, pure pity, For your hands in this are clean; You dwelt in the far-off city, With many a mile between. You did not watch the flowing Of the treacherous, trickling rill; You did not aid the growing Of the tiny rifts in the hill. What if you had? I leave it; It is too dark a thought. How could the heart conceive it? How came it all unsought? A look of great affliction, As you tell what one told you, With a feeble contradiction, Or a "hope it is not true!" A story quite too meager For naming any more, Only your friend seems eager To know a little more. No doubt of explanation, If all was known, you see; One might get information From Mrs. A or B. Only some simple queries Passed on from tongue to tongue, Though the ever-growing series Has out of nothing sprung. Only a faint suggestion, Only a doubtful hint, Only a leading question With a special tone or tint. Only a low "I wonder!" Nothing unfair at all; But the whisper grows to thunder, And a scathing bolt may fall; And a good ship is dismasted, And hearts are like to break, And a Christian life is blasted, For a scarcely-guessed mistake! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE QUESTION by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON YOU, WHO HAVE SONS TO SPARE! by L. ALLEN BECK HOPE DEFERRED by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON SONG by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON FAIR ENGLAND by HELEN GRAY CONE THE APPLE-JELLY FISH-TREE by HILDA CONKLING |