Poems (Coolidge)/And Yet
AND YET
A little cross,—and yet,
Through shadowed days,
On tired shoulders laid
Too much it weighs.
Through shadowed days,
On tired shoulders laid
Too much it weighs.
A tiny thorn—and yet,
So deep its wound
There seems no healing balm
Can e'er be found.
So deep its wound
There seems no healing balm
Can e'er be found.
A hasty word—and yet
A sword-thrust keen;
What joy, unspoken still,
There might have been.
A sword-thrust keen;
What joy, unspoken still,
There might have been.
A tender touch—and yet
Possessing power
A heavy cross to ease
In darkest hour.
Possessing power
A heavy cross to ease
In darkest hour.
A winning smile—and yet
With sunshine fraught;
One may not know how great
The charm it wrought.
With sunshine fraught;
One may not know how great
The charm it wrought.
A gentle word—and yet
'Twere hard to say
How oft its echo cheers
A saddened day.
'Twere hard to say
How oft its echo cheers
A saddened day.