My neighbor’s grief is dark to me.
I gaze and dread, without;
And marvel how he lives to bear
The blackness, and the doubt.
And yet, by all lost ways of grief
That I have had to plod,
I know how small a rift lets through
A little gleam of God.
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Josephine Preston Peabody · Vanguardias / s. XX
inglés
My neighbor’s grief is dark to me.
I gaze and dread, without;
And marvel how he lives to bear
The blackness, and the doubt.
And yet, by all lost ways of grief
That I have had to plod,
I know how small a rift lets through
A little gleam of God.
ws-en-the-watcher--josephine-preston-peabody-d06e18Las obras de dominio público se reproducen íntegras, con atribución y en la ortografía de su impreso. ¿Ves una errata o conoces una fuente mejor? Escríbenos desde Sobre la casa.