HOW often, in this cold and bitter world, Is the warm heart thrown back upon itself! Cold, careless, are we of another's grief; We wrap ourselves in sullen selfishness: Harsh-judging, narrow-minded, stern and chill In measuring every action but our own. How small are some men's motives, and how mean! There are who never knew one generous thought; Whose heart-pulse never quickened with the joy Of kind endeavour, or sweet sympathy. -- There are too many such! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ROLLING ENGLISH ROAD by GILBERT KEITH CHESTERTON DYING SPEECH OF AN OLD PHILOSOPHER by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR PATROLING BARNEGAT by WALT WHITMAN PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 61. AL-MO'HYI by EDWIN ARNOLD DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: ISBRAND by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |