WHEN you come to London Town, <br />(Grieving-grieving!) <br />Bring your flowers and lay them down <br />At the place of grieving. <br /> <br />When you come to London Town, <br />(Grieving-grieving!) <br />Bow your head and mourn your own, <br />With the others grieving. <br /> <br />For those minutes, let it wake <br />(Grieving-grieving!) <br />All the empty-heart and ache <br />That is not cured by grieving. <br /> <br />For those minutes, tell no lie: <br />(Grieving-grieving!) <br />'Grave, this is thy victory; <br />And the sting of death is grieving.' <br /> <br />Where's our help, from earth or heaven, <br />(Grieving-grieving!) <br />To comfort us for what we've given, <br />And only gained the grieving. <br /> <br />Heaven's too far and earth too near, <br />(Grieving-grieving!) <br />But our neighbour's standing here, <br />Grieving as we're grieving. <br /> <br />What's his burden every day? <br />(Grieving-grieving!) <br />Nothing man can count or weigh, <br />But loss and love's own grieving. <br /> <br />What is the tie betwixt us two <br />(Grieving-grieving!) <br />That must last our whole lives through? <br />'As I suffer, so do you.' <br />That may ease the grieving.<br /><br />Rudyard Kipling<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/london-stone/
