The Last Robin
Lyrics and Sonnets


by Ethelwyn Wetherald



 

THE SCHOOL OF PAIN.



HERE is the hard school kept by Pain,
     With pupils sad and white:
While some shed tears like falling rain
     From dreary morn till night,

Some knit the brow and clench the fist,

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     And fill the heart with hate,
And some cross languid wrist on wrist,
     And say Pain is their fate;

But those that study very hard,
     And learn that Pain can bless,

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Are sent out in a leafy yard
     To play with Happiness. [Page 110]