Tear Stains

A poem by John Charles McNeill

Tear-marks stain from page to page
This book my fathers left to me,--
So dull that nothing but its age
Were worth its freight across the sea.

But tear stains! When, by whom, and why?
Thus takes my fancy to its wings;
For grief is old, and one may cry
About so many things!

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'Tear Stains' by John Charles McNeill

comments powered by Disqus