Poems (Denver)/One Drop in the Cup of Memory
Appearance
ONE DROP IN THE CUP OF MEMORY.
One drop in the cup of memory,
One drop of bitterness;
Amid the many lovely things
That beautify and bless.
How, from the outward world of pain
Wherein brood toil and care,
Into the bounds of that charmed domain,
How found it entrance there?
One drop of bitterness;
Amid the many lovely things
That beautify and bless.
How, from the outward world of pain
Wherein brood toil and care,
Into the bounds of that charmed domain,
How found it entrance there?
I read on its tiny page a tale
Of a grave and silent child,
Whose lips but seldom spoke a word,
And very seldom smiled,
For idle jests would haunt his steps
Wherever he would move;—
He was not formed to win the heart
By gentleness and love.
Of a grave and silent child,
Whose lips but seldom spoke a word,
And very seldom smiled,
For idle jests would haunt his steps
Wherever he would move;—
He was not formed to win the heart
By gentleness and love.
There was no beauty on his brow,
No gladness in his eye;
And the heedless words of his merry mates
Were passed in silence by.
He ever gazed on his open book,
Abstracted and alone,
It seemed that his boyish spirit felt
The chains around it thrown.
No gladness in his eye;
And the heedless words of his merry mates
Were passed in silence by.
He ever gazed on his open book,
Abstracted and alone,
It seemed that his boyish spirit felt
The chains around it thrown.
There was no sympathy for him,
For his parents were very poor;
And tales of their abject poverty
Were talked of o'er and o'er.
I did not scorn him in my heart,
Yet was I not forbid;—
But I felt ashamed to be ashamed
To do as others did!
For his parents were very poor;
And tales of their abject poverty
Were talked of o'er and o'er.
I did not scorn him in my heart,
Yet was I not forbid;—
But I felt ashamed to be ashamed
To do as others did!
Alas! when those who guide our steps,
In youth's unthinking ways,
Teach us to scorn the humbler poor,
Even in our little plays,
They little know the store they bring
To life's advancing years,
To poison the wine of memory
With drops of bitter tears!
In youth's unthinking ways,
Teach us to scorn the humbler poor,
Even in our little plays,
They little know the store they bring
To life's advancing years,
To poison the wine of memory
With drops of bitter tears!
One drop in the cup of memory,
One drop of bitterness;
Amidst the thousand lovely things
That vivify and bless.
I know not if it e'er again
Will from that cup depart;
But I would that bitter drop was poured
From out that poor child's heart!
One drop of bitterness;
Amidst the thousand lovely things
That vivify and bless.
I know not if it e'er again
Will from that cup depart;
But I would that bitter drop was poured
From out that poor child's heart!