What,shall I grumble at a little ill,
And see a mouse grow to a chimpanzee?
Shall I moan and shriek and fall downhill
When I might look at mountains and broad sea?
Oh,shall I endlessly repeat the story sad?
And make my brother men be saddened too?
Or shall I spend my time with people glad,
And show my sister women, willing new?
I see that in my heart I must contain
Some painful,prickling agony and grief.
But knowing that my life comes not again
Shall I permit such woe to be my thief?
For, in a glance into a beggar’s eyes,
I saw compassion and the truth it cries.
How my heart sings 