I lay in sorrow deep distressed,
My grief a proud man heard;
His looks were cold, he gave me gold,
But not a kindly word.
My sorrow passed – I paid him back,
The gold he gave to me;
Then stood erect and spoke my thank’s
And blessed his charity.
I lay in want, and grief, and pain,
A poor man passed my way;
He watched me night and day.
How shall I pay him back again,
For all he did to me?
Oh, gold is great, but greather faar is
Heavenl Sympathy.
By- Sandeep Pandey
