Tears

Thank God, bless God, all ye who suffer not

More grief than ye can weep for. That is well--

That is light grieving! lighter, none befell

Since Adam forfeited the primal lot.

Tears! what are tears? The babe weeps in its cot,

The mother singing, at her marriage-bell

The bride weeps, and before the oracle

Of high-faned hills the poet has forgot

Such moisture on his cheeks. Thank God for grace,

Ye who weep only! If, as some have done,

Ye grope tear-blinded in a desert place

And touch but tombs,--look up I those tears will run

Soon in long rivers down the lifted face,

And leave the vision clear for stars and sun.