My heart was heavy, for its trust had been <br />Abused, its kindness answered with foul wrong; <br />So, turning gloomily from my fellow-men, <br />One summer Sabbath day I strolled among <br />The green mounds of the village burial-place; <br />Where, pondering how all human love and hate <br />Find one sad level; and how, soon or late, <br />Wronged and wrongdoer, each with meekened face, <br />And cold hands folded over a still heart, <br />Pass the green threshold of our common grave, <br />Whither all footsteps tend, whence none depart, <br />Awed for myself, and pitying my race, <br />Our common sorrow, like a mighty wave, <br />Swept all my pride away, and trembling I forgave!<br /><br />John Greenleaf Whittier<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/forgiveness/
