The darkest times do drag along
and blind all joys from every eye,
and good works crushed beneath the weight
of self-inflicted misery.

But sorrow is no substitute
for a rare and genuine lament,
Nor will it cease to manipulate
the mind's wily descent.

And powerless to stop the wheels
of time and trusted providence,
the well-intentioned heart lingers there--
in waiting and suspense.