THE LESSON
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y cot was down by a cypress grove,And I sat by my window the whole night long,And heard well up from the deep dark woodA mocking-bird's passionate song. And I thought of myself so sad and lone,And my life's cold winter that knew no spring;Of my mind so weary and sick and wild,Of my heart too sad to sing. But e'en as I listened the mock-bird's song,A thought stole into my saddened heart,And I said, "I can cheer some other soulBy a carol's simple art." For oft from the darkness of hearts and livesCome songs that brim with joy and light,As out of the gloom of the cypress groveThe mocking-bird sings at night. So I sang a lay for a brother's earIn a strain to soothe his bleeding heart,And he smiled at the sound of my voice and lyre,Though mine was a feeble art. But at his smile I smiled in turn,And into my soul there came a ray:In trying to soothe another's woesMine own had passed away.
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