Poems By - Charles Mackay
Sympathy
I lay in sorrow, deep distressed;
My grief a proud man heard;
His looks were cold,he gave me gold;
But not a kindly word.
My sorrow passed-i paid him back;
The gold he gave me;
Then stood erect and spoke my thanks;
And blessed his charity.
I lay in want, and grief, and pain;
A poor man passed my way;
He bound my head, he gave me bread;
He watched me night and day.
How shall i pay him back;
For all he did to me;
Oh, gold is great,but greater far,
Is heavenly sympathy.