TRUANT TEARS.
TEARS, truant tears, that flow and flow
From neither life's great joy nor pain,
That rise at sight of sunset glow,
Or arch of summer rain.
From neither life's great joy nor pain,
That rise at sight of sunset glow,
Or arch of summer rain.
A tattered flag, a summer rose,
Pure, noble thoughts, unselfish fears,
Low music heard at evening's close,
Have power to bring these tears.
Pure, noble thoughts, unselfish fears,
Low music heard at evening's close,
Have power to bring these tears.
Fair, ruined Athens bade them fall,
And Rome's campagna saw them shine;
The tales of old-time field and hall
Have brought these drops divine.
And Rome's campagna saw them shine;
The tales of old-time field and hall
Have brought these drops divine.
To all fair things beneath the sky,
To all above it, we are kin;
Such tears but prove that souls are high,
And show us God within.
To all above it, we are kin;
Such tears but prove that souls are high,
And show us God within.