The sky of brightest gray seems dark
    To one whose sky was ever white.
To one who never knew a spark,
    Thro' all his life, of love or light,
    The grayest cloud seems over-bright.

The robin sounds a beggar's note
    Where one the nightingale has heard,
But he for whom no silver throat
    Its liquid music ever stirred,
    Deems robin still the sweetest bird.

This poem is in the public domain.