The Comforters

1  
Until thy feet have trod the Road
Advise not wayside folk,
Nor till thy back has borne the Load
Break in upon the broke.
2
Chase not with undesired largesse
Of sympathy the heart
Which, knowing her own bitterness,
Presumes to dwell apart.
3
Employ not that glad hand to raise
The God-forgotten head
To Heaven, and all the neighbours’ gaze—
Cover thy mouth instead.
4
The quivering chin, the bitten lip,
The cold and sweating brow,
Later may yearn for fellowship—
Not now, you ass, not now!
5
Time, not thy ne’er so timely speech,
Life, not thy views thereon,
Shall furnish or deny to each
His consolation.
6
Or, if impelled to interfere,
Exhort, uplift, advise,
Lend not a base, betraying ear
To all the victim’s cries.
7
Only the Lord can understand
When those first pangs begin,
How much is reflex action and
How much is really sin.
8
E’en from good words thyself refrain,
And tremblingly admit
There is no anodyne for pain
Except the shock of it.
9
So, when thine own dark hour shall fall,
Unchallenged canst thou say:
“I never worried you at all,
For God’s sake go away!”

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