(20 August 1881 - 5 August 1959 / Birmingham / England)

The Sorrow Tugs

There's a lot of joy in the smiling world,
there's plenty of morning sun,
And laughter and songs and dances, too,
when-ever the day's work's done;
Full many an hour is a shining one,
when viewed by itself apart,
But the golden threads in the warp of life
are the sorrow tugs at your heart.

Oh, the fun is froth and it blows away,
and many a joy's forgot,
And the pleasures come and the pleasures go,
and memory holds them not;
But treasured ever you keep the pain
that causes your tears to start,
For the sweetest hours are the ones that bring
the sorrow tugs at your heart.

The lump in your throat and the little sigh
when your baby trudged away
The very first time to the big red school —
how long will their memory stay?
The fever days and the long black nights
you watched as she troubled, slept,
And the joy you felt when she smiled once more —
how long will that all be kept?

The glad hours live in a feeble way,
but the sad ones never die.
His first long trousers caused a pang
and you saw them with a sigh.
And the big still house when the boy and girl,
unto youth and beauty grown,
To college went; will you e'er forget
that first grim hour alone?

It seems as you look back over things,
that all that you treasure dear
Is somehow blent in a wondrous way
with a heart pang and a tear.
Though many a day is a joyous one
when viewed by itself apart,
The golden threads in the warp of life
are the sorrow tugs at your heart.

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