THEY say that lonely sorrows do not chance: More gently, I think, sorrows together go; A new one joins the funeral gliding slow With less of jar than when it breaks the dance. Grief swages grief, and joy doth joy enhance; Nature is generous to her children so. And were they quick to spy the flowers that blow, As quick to feel the sharp-edged stones that lance The foot that must walk naked in life's way,— Blest by the roadside lily, free from fear, Oftener than hurt by dash of flinty spear, They would walk upright, bold, and earnest-gay; And when the soft night closed the weary day, Would sleep like those that far-off music hear. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AURENG-ZEBE, OR THE GREAT MOGUL: PROLOGUE by JOHN DRYDEN THE VIOLIN'S ENCHANTRESS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE SIDEWALKS OF NEW YORK by JAMES W. BLAKE MAY'S LOVE by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING A FORGIVENESS by ROBERT BROWNING LESBIA, LIVE TO LOVE by GAIUS VALERIUS CATULLUS POEM by MARY FERRELL DICKINSON |