There is much in life that makes me sorry as I journey br down life’s way. br And I seem to see more pathos in poor human br Lives each day. br I’m sorry for the strong brave men, who shield br the weak from harm, br But who, in their own troubled hours find no br Protecting arm. br br I’m sorry for the victors who have reached br success, to stand br As targets for the arrows shot by envious failure’s br hand. br I’m sorry for the generous hearts who freely br shared their wine, br But drink alone the gall of tears in fortune’s br drear decline. br br I’m sorry for the souls who build their own fame’s br funeral pyre, br Derided by the scornful throng like ice deriding br fire. br I’m sorry for the conquering ones tho know not br sin’s defeat, br But daily tread down fierce desire ‘neath scorched br and bleeding feet. br br I’m sorry for the anguished hearts that break with br passions strain, br But I’m sorrier for the poor starved souls that br Never knew love’s pain. br Who hunger on through barren years not tasting br joys they crave, br For sadder far is such a lot than weeping o’er a br grave. br br I’m sorry for the souls that come unwelcomed br into birth, br I’m sorry for the unloved old who cumber up the br earth. br I’m sorry for the suffering poor in life’s great br maelstrom hurled, br In truth I’m sorry for them all who make this br aching world. br br But underneath whate’er seems sad and is not br understood, br I know there lies hid from our sight a mighty br germ of good. br And this belief stands firm by me, my sermon, br motto, text – br The sorriest things in this life will seem grandest br in the next.