“Did she care as much as I did <br />When our paths of Fate divided? <br />Was the love, then, all onesided— <br />Did she understand or care?” <br />Slowly fall the moments leaden, <br />And the silence seems to deaden— <br />And a voice from over yonder answers sadly: “I’ve been there.” <br /> <br /> <br />“Have you tramped the streets of cities <br />Poor? And do you know what it is— <br />While no mortal cares or pities— <br />To have drifted past ambition; <br />To have sunk below despair? <br />Doomed to slave and stint and borrow; <br />Ever haunted in your sorrow <br />By the spectre of To-morrow?” <br />And the voice from over yonder answers sadly: “I’ve been there.” <br /> <br />“Surely in the wide Hereafter <br />There’s a land of love and laughter? <br />Say: Is this life all we live for— <br />Say it! think it, if you dare! <br />Have you ever thought or wondered <br />Why the Man and God were sundered? <br />Do you think the Maker blundered?” <br />And the voice, in mocking accents, answered only: “I’ve been there.”<br /><br />Henry Lawson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-voice-from-over-yonder/
