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Burdened No burden ever had I That I would not have had; Though times there were when I thought never again To look up to heaven and be glad. For, groaning and struggling on With the throngs that laden go, I saw, by the pack on my neighbor's back, That mine was the lighter woe. Unladen, heedless, unbent, I never had known That the fardel borne by each wight forlorn Held something that was my own; Something he bore for me With a patient ignorance, While my footprints lay as a blur on his way, And hindered his soul's advance. Just it was that on me Some sorrow should fall; No trouble alone is the trouble of one, But each has a share in all. And if on my aching neck Another his burden laid, Strength given for his day then he threw away, Wherewith I was stronger made. I know that we are not here For our selfish ease; The kingliest One that the earth has known Lived not Himself to please. And they who have learned of Him How a burden can give rest, And joyfully share the great human care, — They have learned life's secret best. Lucy Larcom's other poems: Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием): Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1234 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |