Poems (Henderson)/Sympathy

by Elizabeth Henderson

For works with similar titles, see Sympathy.

SYMPATHY.

The rarest gems that ever shone,
 In circlet or in crown,
Were by the patient toiler's hand,
 From deepest caverns wrung.
The sweetest songs that ever stirred,
 The fountains of the heart,
Were of the singer's anguished soul,
 Themselves a bitter part.

The sweetest human eyes we meet,
 Are dim with unshed tears,
The dearest faces that we greet,
 Are stamped by anguished years.
If there were no tearful partings,
 No happy meetings would there be,
If no lowering clouds were lifted,
 No sunshine should we see.

If there were no hearts to love us,
 He had not given us hearts to love,
If no heaven, he had not made us,
 Long for peaceful rest above.
If he willed not we should suffer,
 He had not given us tears to shed,
If no strength to bear our trials,
 Upon us they had not been laid.

We know He dwelleth in the heaven,
 But we cannot pierce the mist,
Of the soul's travail and sorrow,
 When Life's crowning joy we miss.
Who can sooth the mourning mother,
 Like her who late hath laid to rest,
In its grave the baby face,
 Of all her treasures loved the best.
Who can utter words of comfort,
 When black sorrow's cup o'erflows,
Like the lips that worn and faded,
 Have quaffed its bitterest woes.