(For Jessie Rittenhouse)
I AM so sorry for them all
Whose ceaseless footsteps rise and fall
Along earth's highways endlessly,
The people in the world with me;
Who have had dreams, and yet must take
The gifts life has for men awake;
Who build their lives each day anew
On hopes they know cannot come true,
Who walk the world till sleep, and then
At dawn must walk the world again;
Who ask God's favors, knowing still
He does not break His changeless will
For any faulty changing cry
Of men He makes to live or die. . . .

I am so sorry for them all,
So sorry! Until I recall
How life's adventure swings afar
Beyond tomorrow like a star,
And how our dreams paint golden-bright
Gray working-day and sleeping-night,
And all the love each man who lives
May buy with merely love he gives,

And how it comforts us to pray
Whether God hears or turns away,
And how to work and sleep and wake
Is good for the mere doing's sake:
Till, whether life seem gay or sad,
I am so glad for men– so glad!