Author Althea Gyles The color gladdens all your heart; — You call iTheaven, dear, but I — Now Hope and I are far apart — — Call it the sky. I know that Nature's tears have wet — The world with sympathy; but you, Who know not any sorrow yet, — Call it the dew. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments