Classic Poem

I suffer racking pain all day, and desire death so—
As few desire. Where is man's mercy gone?
Did ever past generations such torment know
Who lived near earth, and joyed when the sun shone,
Or when sweet rain came on
The earth; and the afterglow
Of sun and flowers in show
Of golden sweetness gladdened earth's dear son?
Where is that mercy now
That palpably took pleasure in the sweep
Of hedgerows—high to deep—
And houses in the making, man's own dear
Vesture and shelter here?
O sure it is that if those olden-time
Builders of farm and byre
Were here again, my pain should pity receive—
Death should make no more to grieve
My spirit with such pain it knows not how
To endure. O show
Such olden pity on poor souls in pain.
Let rest again—
As would our fathers, friends of wind and rain.