Poems (Angier)/Give us Sympathy

by Annie Lanman Angier

GIVE US SYMPATHY.

This is the cry from every heart,
 In cottage and in hall;
It comes up from the busy mart,
 'Tis echoed in the ball;
When smiles are dancing on the face,
 And feet trip o'er the floor,
We hear this cry from every heart,
 If we listen at its door.

From lips of lonely widow,
 From some despairing wife;
From trembling age, and manhood, too,
 In the dusty paths of life;
From merchant at his ledger,
 From maiden at her task;
From statesman, and from preacher grave,
 Though all may wear a mask,

To hide this earnest craving,
 This yearning of the breast;
This longing for the unattained,
 This burden of unrest:
From each soul's inner chamber
 Comes forth the ceaseless cry—
But give us sympathy, we live,
 Withhold it, and we die.

'Tis like the gentle dew and sun
 On tender grass and flower;
Like hope to the despairing one
 In sorrow's darkest hour;
An anchor to the mariner
 Upon life's stormy sea;
A star, whose light will brighter shine
 Throughout eternity.

Thrice happy they who heed the call,
 And yield the boon thus sought;
'Tis in this way that we obey
 The holy precept taught.
And bearing others' burdens,
 We lighter make our own—
Earth will be more like heaven
 When this is better known.