Poems (Linn)/Truant Tears

by Edith Willis Linn

TRUANT TEARS.

TEARS, truant tears, that flow and flow
 From neither life's great joy nor pain,
That rise at sight of sunset glow,
 Or arch of summer rain.

A tattered flag, a summer rose,
 Pure, noble thoughts, unselfish fears,
Low music heard at evening's close,
 Have power to bring these tears.

Fair, ruined Athens bade them fall,
 And Rome's campagna saw them shine;
The tales of old-time field and hall
 Have brought these drops divine.

To all fair things beneath the sky,
 To all above it, we are kin;
Such tears but prove that souls are high,
 And show us God within.