Classic Poem

I PITY all people who walk the earth—
Weary-eyed women,
Little pale children, too weak to play,
And strange men, with tired faces
Who follow the winding paths of life.
I pity all creatures who have ever been born
For not one is without some hidden sorrow.

Only when men come to die I do not weep,
For then they have no need of my pity.