Weeping for another's woe,
Tears flow then that would not flow
When our sorrow was our own,
And the deadly, stiffening blow
Was upon our own heart given
In the moments that have flown!
Cringing at another's cry
In the hollow world of grief
Stills the anguish of our pain
For the fate that made us die
To our hopes as sweet as vain;
And our tears can flow again!
One storm blows the night this way,
But another brings the day.
Back to Rose Hawthorne Lathrop
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓
To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.