Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/113

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THE TEAR OF SYMPATHY.
95
As lullaby the ailing child
May softly lull to quiet sleep,
So thy consoling spirit mild
Soothes those who sorrow-stricken weep.

For oft when some poor heart by grief
Is wrung, true sympathy may dry
The blinding tear, may yield relief,
And thus suppress the bitter sigh.

Sweet unison of soul will raise
Faith's languid flame, in anguished breast,
And blended hopes of brighter days
Lighten the heart with sorrow pressed.

Oh, is it not indeed sublime,
To drop soul-soothing words of cheer,
Which like some sweet-loved mellow chime
Fall gently calm on pensive ear.

'Tis Heaven's command that we should be
To each as brothers, and in love
We 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 stay
The 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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