Poems (Brown)/The Wide, Wide World
THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD.
The wide, wide world is beautiful,
And decked with bright-hued flowers;
And happy songs of plumaged birds
Are echoed 'mong its bowers.
And decked with bright-hued flowers;
And happy songs of plumaged birds
Are echoed 'mong its bowers.
But still its joyous, gay, glad tone,
Sad, aching hearts conceal;
And often wounds are festering,
Which Time's touch ne'er can heal.
Sad, aching hearts conceal;
And often wounds are festering,
Which Time's touch ne'er can heal.
The tears which sad and mournful fall,
Are often flowing on,
'Mid natures gay, and pleasant strain,
And happy, flattering tongue.
Are often flowing on,
'Mid natures gay, and pleasant strain,
And happy, flattering tongue.
The wide, wide world may still move on,
Decked in her richest glow;
But there are many throbbing breasts,
More than we weak ones know.
Decked in her richest glow;
But there are many throbbing breasts,
More than we weak ones know.
A careless tone, a scornful laugh,
May fill the eye's deep cup;
And often words so harshly said
Will swell the bosom up.
May fill the eye's deep cup;
And often words so harshly said
Will swell the bosom up.
Many hearts are often broken,
Many words the lips do bring,
While the wide, wide world is happy,
And gay songs the birds do sing.
Many words the lips do bring,
While the wide, wide world is happy,
And gay songs the birds do sing.
Weary mortals, look up yonder;
Do not droop to earth so low;
Ye are "hand in hand with angels,"
Nearer than ye weak ones know.
Do not droop to earth so low;
Ye are "hand in hand with angels,"
Nearer than ye weak ones know.