Poems (Curwen)/A Fragment

by Annie Isabel Curwen

For works with similar titles, see A Fragment.

A Fragment.

Wrung from an aching heart,
 Coined in a weary brain,
Were the words I wrote with simple art
 With the quivering pen of pain.

But the words, my poor plain words,
 With sympathy were rife,
And they fell and soothed the trembling chords
 Of a heart, and blest a life.

And my own tears fell like rain,
 And the ache went from my breast—
For in trying to ease another's pain
 My own sad heart was blest.