Poems (Kimball)/"He opened not His Mouth"
"HE OPENED NOT HIS MOUTH."
EACH counts his lot most grievous; his distress Sorer than other's; each is prone to harp Upon his many trials (though he carp At his poor neighbor's fretting none the less); For all his wrongs there seemeth small redress; No other's ills were ever quite so sharp; Misfortunes all his plans do thwart and warp; No loss his loss can match; no sorrows press Like his! Ah! eighteen hundred years ago The pangs and penalties of all mankind Through all the groaning centuries behind And all the wrestling centuries to come One Man endured, bound thrice ten years with woe, Yet from the Manger to the Cross was dumb!