Meet in this body born to laugh and weep.
Weep; not for the endured, ancestral ill,
Perils and plagues, that ambush all our ways,
Time’s injury, and pain’s deep-wandered maze;
These need not eyes to see, but only flesh to feel.
But of the eternal vision to partake,
And see what we have done, and what refused,
To what accepted blindness we grow used,
And what marred shapes of one another make,
This is to weep such tears as no flesh-throes have cost,