In heaven above, And earth below, they best can serve true gladness Who meet most feelingly the calls of sadness.
Yet tears to human suffering are due; And mortal hopes defeated and o'erthrown Are mourned by man, and not by man alone.
A brotherhood of venerable trees.
The very flowers are sacred to the poor.
Not without hope we suffer and we mourn.
When his veering gait And every motion of his starry train Seem governed by a strain Of music, audible to him alone.