<h2><SPAN name="poem77"></SPAN>THROUGH TEARS</h2>
<p class="poetry">An artist toiled over his pictures;<br/>
He laboured by night and by day,<br/>
He struggled for glory and honour<br/>
But the world, it had nothing to say.<br/>
His walls were ablaze with the splendours<br/>
We see in the beautiful skies;<br/>
But the world beheld only the colours<br/>
That were made out of chemical dyes.</p>
<p class="poetry">Time sped. And he lived, loved, and
suffered;<br/>
He passed through the valley of grief.<br/>
Again he toiled over his canvas,<br/>
Since in labour alone was relief.<br/>
It showed not the splendour of colours<br/>
Of those of his earlier years;<br/>
But the world? the world bowed down before it<br/>
Because it was painted with tears.</p>
<p class="poetry">A poet was gifted with genius,<br/>
And he sang, and he sang all the days.<br/>
He wrote for the praise of the people,<br/>
But the people accorded no praise.<br/>
Oh! his songs were as blithe as the morning,<br/>
As sweet as the music of birds;<br/>
But the world had no homage to offer,<br/>
Because they were nothing but words.</p>
<p class="poetry">Time sped. And the poet through sorrow<br/>
Became like his suffering kind.<br/>
Again he toiled over his poems<br/>
To lighten the grief of his mind.<br/>
They were not so flowing and rhythmic<br/>
As those of his earlier years;<br/>
But the world? lo! it offered its homage,<br/>
Because they were written in tears.</p>
<p class="poetry">So ever the price must be given<br/>
By those seeking glory in art;<br/>
So ever the world is repaying<br/>
The grief-stricken, suffering heart.<br/>
The happy must ever be humble;<br/>
Ambition must wait for the years<br/>
Ere hoping to win the approval<br/>
Of a world that looks on through its tears.</p>
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