Who is so low that I am not his brother?
Who is so high that I have no path to him?
Who is so poor that I may not feel his hunger?
Who is so rich I may not pity him?
Who is so hurt I may not know his heartache?
Who sings for joy my heart may never share?
Who in God's heaven has passed beyond my vision?
Who in hell's depths where I may never fare?
May none then, call on me for understanding,
may none then, turn to me for help in pain,
and drain alone his bitter cup of sorrow,
or find he knocked upon my heart in vain
This poem was written by Ralph S. Harlowe, who was a Professor at Harvard. He was dreaming one night, and a friend of his who had been dead for ten years, came to him. He told him to write this poem down. Upon awakening, Professor Harlowe could not remember the words. The next night, his friend showed up in his dreams again. He repeated the poem to him, and he instantly woke up and wrote it down. This has always been my favorite poem. I hope you will enjoy it too.
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Comments: 9
thank you so much