Why do we pity those who weep? The pain <br /> <br />That finds a ready outlet in the flow <br /> <br />Of salt and bitter tears is blessed woe, <br /> <br />And does not need our sympathies. The rain <br /> <br />But fits the shorn field for new yield of grain; <br /> <br />While the red, brazen skies, the sun's fierce glow, <br /> <br />The dry, hot winds that from the tropics blow <br /> <br />Do parch and wither the unsheltered plain. <br /> <br />The anguish that through long, remorseless years <br /> <br />Looks out upon the world with no relief <br /> <br />Of sudden tempests or slow-dripping tears— <br /> <br />The still, unuttered, silent, wordless grief <br /> <br />That evermore doth ache, and ache, and ache— <br /> <br />This is the sorrow wherewith hearts do break.<br /><br />Ella Wheeler Wilcox<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/drouth/
