Explore "The Saddest Hour" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The saddest hour of anguish and of loss / Is not that season of supreme despair / When we can find no least light anywhere / To gild the dread, black shadow of the Cross; / Not in that luxury of sorrow when / We sup on salt of tears, and drink the gall / Of memories of days beyond recall -- / Of lost delights that cannot come again.
But when, with eyes that are no longer wet, / We look out on the great, wide world of men, / And, smiling, lean toward a bright to-morrow, / Then backward shrink, with sudden keen regret, / To find that we are learning to forget: / Ah! then we face the saddest hour of sorrow.