Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/113

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THE TEAR OF SYMPATHY.
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As lullaby the ailing childMay softly lull to quiet sleep,So thy consoling spirit mildSoothes those who sorrow-stricken weep.
For oft when some poor heart by griefIs wrung, true sympathy may dryThe blinding tear, may yield relief,And thus suppress the bitter sigh.
Sweet unison of soul will raiseFaith's languid flame, in anguished breast,And blended hopes of brighter daysLighten the heart with sorrow pressed.
Oh, is it not indeed sublime,To drop soul-soothing words of cheer,Which like some sweet-loved mellow chimeFall gently calm on pensive ear.
'Tis Heaven's command that we should beTo each as brothers, and in loveWe should fulfil this high decree,This "new commandment" from above.
Then let us do whate'er we can,Ami ne'er be selfish, backward, vain,To aid a suffering fellow-man,To mitigate a brother's pain.
For He whose mighty power could stayThe tumult of the troubled sea,Breathed while on earth, day after day,The very soul of sympathy.
The Tear of Sympathy.
How lovely shines the liquid pearl, Which trickling from the eye,Pours in a suffering brother's wound, The tear of sympathy!
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