The Lesson

My cot was down by a cypress grove,     And I sat by my window the whole night long,     And heard well up from the deep dark wood     A mocking-bird's passionate song.     And I thought of myself so sad and lone,     And my life's cold winter that knew no spring;     Of my mind so weary and sick and wild,     Of my heart too sad to sing.     But e'en as I listened the mock-bird's song,     A thought stole into my saddened heart,     And I said, "I can cheer some other soul     By a carol's simple art."     For oft from the darkness of hearts and lives     Come songs that brim with joy and light,     As out of the gloom of the cypress grove     The mocking-bird sings at night.     So I sang a lay for a brother's ear     In a strain to soothe his bleeding heart,     And he smiled at the sound of my voice and lyre,     Though mine was a feeble art.     But at his smile I smiled in turn,     And into my soul there came a ray:     In trying to soothe another's woes     Mine own had passed away.