Classic Poem

Listen to the evening breeze
Sighing in the cypress trees;
Raindrops from the dark'ning skies
Soft as tears from angel's eyes,
Fall upon the sodden ground
With a melancholy sound;
Falling too are human tears,
Wrung from hearts convulsed with fears.

Bitter tear-drops ever falling,
Will they ne'er be dried again?
Listen to the kind earth calling
To her children in their pain.

“Children, let your tear-drops fall,
I will gladly drink them all.

“Are they tears of grief or gladness,
Tears of anger or of pride?
Many feelings mix with sadness
For the loved ones who have died.

“Are they tears of bitter sorrow
Falling on the cold bare ground?
Promising a bright to-morrow,
Snowdrops white spring up around.

“Are they tears of anger flowing
In memory of martyrs, dead?
Fire-lilies, flame-like glowing,
Flare with passion fiercely red.

“Eager ears are strain'd to listen
To the stories of the brave;
Are they tears of joy that glisten
On the daisy-cover'd grave?

“Are they tears of pride, victorious
O'er the sorrow for the dead?
Irises triumphant, glorious,
Bloom where'er those tears are shed.

“Give me all those precious tears,
Purest life-pervading showers,
To refresh my thirsty flowers.

Take the fairest from the bowers,
Take them in your gentle fingers,
Touch them with a soft caress,
They shall soothe your loneliness
Through the endless dreary years;
They shall softly speak to you,
While the loving twilight lingers,
Words of love and comfort too.

“Children, while your tear-drops fall
I will gladly drink them all.”