Classic Poem

You were no more to me than many others,
I never thought you beautiful or bright,
And yet I find your memory returning
Many a night.

Again I hear your strange, heart-broken laughter,
Laughter more pitiful than any tears;
Again I see your gallant head uplifted
Through heavy years.

You held so tight the fragile toy you wanted,
And when it broke you would not let it go;
You would not let us guess your heart broke with it—
You played you did not know.

Now you are gone we see how well you suffered,
We see the valiant way you struggled on.
Can you forgive our foolish condescension,
Now you are gone?