There is much in life that makes me sorry as I journey
down lifes way.
And I seem to see more pathos in poor human
Lives each day.
Im sorry for the strong brave men, who shield
the weak from harm,
But who, in their own troubled hours find no
Protecting arm.
Im sorry for the victors who have reached
success, to stand
As targets for the arrows shot by envious failures
hand.
Im sorry for the generous hearts who freely
shared their wine,
But drink alone the gall of tears in fortunes
drear decline.
Im sorry for the souls who build their own fames
funeral pyre,
Derided by the scornful throng like ice deriding
fire.
Im sorry for the conquering ones tho know not
sins defeat,
But daily tread down fierce desire neath scorched
and bleeding feet.
Im sorry for the anguished hearts that break with
passions strain,
But Im sorrier for the poor starved souls that
Never knew loves pain.
Who hunger on through barren years not tasting
joys they crave,
For sadder far is such a lot than weeping oer a
grave.
Im sorry for the souls that come unwelcomed
into birth,
Im sorry for the unloved old who cumber up the
earth.
Im sorry for the suffering poor in lifes great
maelstrom hurled,
In truth Im sorry for them all who make this
aching world.
But underneath whateer seems sad and is not
understood,
I know there lies hid from our sight a mighty
germ of good.
And this belief stands firm by me, my sermon,
motto, text
The sorriest things in this life will seem grandest
in the next.
