IF tears could wash the ill away, A pearl for each wet bead I'd pay; But as dew'd corn the fuller grows, So water'd eyes but swell our woes. One drop another calls, which still (Grief adding fuel) doth distil; Too fruitful of herself is anguish, We need no cherishing to languish. Coward Fate degen'rate man Like little children uses when He whips us first until we weep, Then' cause we still a-weeping keep. Then from thy firm self never swerve; Tears fat the grief that they should sterve; Iron decrees of Destiny Are ne'er wip'd out with a wet eye. But this way you may gain the field, Oppose but sorrow, and 'twill yield; One gallant thorough-made resolve Doth starry influence dissolve. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUTH PENETRANT by CONRAD AIKEN QUESTION by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE FISH by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS ONE WORD MORE by ROBERT BROWNING WRITTEN UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF DELIRIUM by WILLIAM COWPER |