Classic Poem

God, pity broken little families
— Where there were four and now there are but three;
Where there were three and now there are but one or two;
— Pray, comfort these as Thou alone canst do.

Send peace to houses where there is a crib,
— Too wrinkleless its wild-rose-bordered spread,
Too smooth its pillow that, brief days ago,
— Hollowed to hold a tiny, curl-framed head;

Or where an untouched place is laid above
— An empty chair, facing which one must sit
And sup alone; or where a chintz-hung room
— No more has gay, untidy youth in it;

Or where a curtain now hangs straight that long
— Was knotted up so that a fragile hand
Might wave to neighbors as they came and went
— Past two tired eyes across the wintry land . . .

God, teach all broken little families
— To bear such losses self-conqueringly . . .
Understanding each other, day by day, more instinctively,
— Forbearing each other, day by day, more patiently,
Growing, day by day, more closely into oneness with each other.

God, pity broken little families
— Where there were four and now there are but three;
Where there were three and now there are but one or two;
— Pray, comfort these as Thou alone canst do.

Send peace to houses where there is a crib,
— Too wrinkleless its wild-rose-bordered spread,
Too smooth its pillow that, brief days ago,
— Hollowed to hold a tiny, curl-framed head;

Or where an untouched place is laid above
— An empty chair, facing which one must sit
And sup alone; or where a chintz-hung room
— No more has gay, untidy youth in it;

Or where a curtain now hangs straight that long
— Was knotted up so that a fragile hand
Might wave to neighbors as they came and went
— Past two tired eyes across the wintry land . . .

God, teach all broken little families
— To bear such losses self-conqueringly . . .
Understanding each other, day by day, more instinctively,
— Forbearing each other, day by day, more patiently,
Growing, day by day, more closely into oneness with each other.