Classic Poem

In every heart a story;
In every heart a grief;
The sorrow of a lifetime;
A pain or rapture brief.
Old hearts and young together,
All hearts alike, are one;
All harden in black weather,
All soften at the sun.

All hearts have had their burden;
Romance has come to most,
Has entered life with trumpets
And vanished like a ghost.
Each heart is like an album
With blossoms therein dried;
Sweet blossoms, pure love-blossoms,
That bloomed a day, then died.

Oh! brothers, Oh! strong brothers,
And sisters sad and sweet,
Wives, daughters, fathers, mothers,—
In suffering all can meet.
The path of pain in common
We all alike have trod,—
May that one pathway lead us,
Lead all alike to God!