I.
Oh, thou hast wept long, yet thy heart is still aching;
There are tears that ne’er fall, though the sad heart be breaking;
And that bright day of hope—all too soon ’tis passed o’er,
And the light of thy life has gone out evermore.
II.
When the heart is left lonely there’s naught can atone:
Though a nation weep with thee—thou weepest alone;
And thine is a sorrow too deep e’en for tears
To relieve the lone heart through the desolate years.
III.
We are told that a goddess once dwelt here below,
Who, for some sad mischance, was doomed ever to woe;
And her tears, as they fell on this cold world of ours,
Springing up from the dust, bloomed in bright fragrant flowers.
IV.
And oft have I gazed on those sad eyes of thine,
Where beauty’s soft lustre seems ever to shine,
And have thought that the tears of the just may yet bloom
In fragrance and beauty beyond the dark tomb.