Until thy feet have trod the Road <br />Advise not wayside folk, <br />Nor till thy back has borne the Load <br />Break in upon the broke. <br /> <br />Chase not with undesired largesse <br />Of sympathy the heart <br />Which, knowing her own bitterness, <br />Presumes to dwell apart. <br /> <br />Employ not that glad hand to raise <br />The God-forgotten head <br />To Heaven and all the neighbours' gaze-- <br />Cover thy mouth instead. <br /> <br />The quivering chin, the bitten lip, <br />The cold and sweating brow, <br />Later may yearn for fellowship-- <br />Not now, you ass, not now! <br /> <br />Time, not thy ne'er so timely speech, <br />Life, not thy views thereon, <br />Shall furnish or deny to each <br />His consolation. <br /> <br />Or, if impelled to interfere <br />Exhort, uplift, advise, <br />Lend not a base, betraying ear <br />To all the victim's cries. <br /> <br />Only the Lord can understand <br />When those first pangs begin, <br />How much is reflex action and <br />How much is really sin. <br /> <br />E'en from good words thyself refrain, <br />And tremblingly admit <br />There is no anodyne for pain <br />Except the shock of it. <br /> <br />So, when thine own dark hour shall fall, <br />Unchallenged canst thou say: <br />"I never worried you at all, <br />For God's sake go away!"<br /><br />Rudyard Kipling<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-comforters/
