Like the moon her kindness is, <br />If kindness I may call <br />What has no comprehension in't, <br />But is the same for all <br />As though my sorrow were a scene <br />Upon a painted wall. <br /> <br />So like a bit of stone I lie <br />Under a broken tree. <br />I could recover if I shrieked <br />My heart's agony <br />To passing bird, but I am dumb <br />From human dignity.<br /><br />William Butler Yeats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-man-young-and-old-ii-human-dignity/
