
Time to me this truth hath taught,
It is a truth that’s worth revealing:
More offend from want of thought
Than from want of feeling.
If advice we would convey,
There’s a time we should convey it;
If we have but a word to say,
There is a time in which to say it.
Many a beauteous flower decays,
Though we tend it ever so much;
Something secret on its preys,
Which no human aid can touch.
So in many a loving breast
Lies some canker-grief concealed,
That, if touched, is more oppressed,
Left unto itself-is healed!
Often, unknowingly, the tongue
Touches on a chord so aching
That a word or accent wrong
Pains the heart almost to breaking.
Many a year of wounded pride,
Many a fault of human blindness,
Has been soothed or turned aside
By a quiet voice of kindness.
Time to me this truth hath taught,
It is a truth that is worth revealing:
More offend from want of thought
Than from want of feeling.
The Humbler Poets.
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