If we knew the cares and crosses
Crowding round our neighbor’s way;
If we knew the little losses,
Sorely grievous day by day,
Would we then so often chide him
For the lack of thrift and gain-
Casting o’er his life a shadow,
Leaving on his heart a stain.
If we knew the silent story
Quivering through the heart of pain,
Would our womanhood dare doom them
Back to haunts of guilt again?
Life hath many a tangled crossing.
Joy hath many a break of woe,
And the cheeks tear washed seem whitest,
This the blessed angels know.
Let us reach into our bosoms
For the key to other lives,
And with love to erring nature,
Cherish good that still survives;
So that when our disrobed spirits
Soar to realms of light again,
We may say, dear Father, judge us
As we judged our fellowmen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Its a mesmerising poem