A Wasted Sympathy

Do not waste your pity, friend, When you see me weep as now; Keep it to some better end. When dry-eyed I went about With a leaden heart locked in By a silent tongue, ah! then Had you brought it, it had been Sweet indeed to me; but now When the depths of my despair Are upheaved and through the portals Of my heart come free as air, It is useless. If you please, Give your thanks that to a woman Tears are given, and be at ease.

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