Come Hither: A Collection of Rhymes and Poems for the Young of All Ages

by Unknown

THE COMFORTERS

When I crept over the hill, broken with tears,

When I crouched down on the grass, dumb in despair,

I heard the soft croon of the wind bend to my ears,

I felt the light kiss of the wind touching my hair.

When I stood lone on the height my sorrow did speak,

As I went down the hill, I cried and I cried,

The soft little hands of the rain stroking my cheek,

The kind little feet of the rain ran by my side.

When I went to thy grave, broken with tears,

When I crouched down in the grass, dumb in despair,

I heard the sweet croon of the wind soft in my ears,

I felt the kind lips of the wind touching my hair.

When I stood lone by thy cross, sorrow did speak,

When I went down the long hill, I cried and I cried,

The soft little hands of the rain stroked my pale cheek,

The kind little feet of the rain ran by my side.

Dora Sigerson Shorter

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