THEY say that lonely sorrows do not chance: More gently, I think, sorrows together go; A new one joins the funeral gliding slow With less of jar than when it breaks the dance. Grief swages grief, and joy doth joy enhance; Nature is generous to her children so. And were they quick to spy the flowers that blow, As quick to feel the sharp-edged stones that lance The foot that must walk naked in life's way,— Blest by the roadside lily, free from fear, Oftener than hurt by dash of flinty spear, They would walk upright, bold, and earnest-gay; And when the soft night closed the weary day, Would sleep like those that far-off music hear. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONGS OUT OF SORROW: REFUGE by SARA TEASDALE GOD'S ACRE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW EXODUS FOR OREGON by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER SONNETS TO LAURA IN LIFE: 131 by PETRARCH THE BLIND ASTRONOMER by THOMAS ASA SUNSET-MOOD by STANLEY E. BABB A STORM IN SUMMER by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |