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Title: The Confidant
Author: Charles Lamb [
More Titles by Lamb]
Anna was always full of thought
As if she'd many sorrows known,
Yet mostly her full heart was fraught
With troubles that were not her own;
For the whole school to Anna us'd to tell
Whatever small misfortunes unto them befell.
And being so by all belov'd,
That all into her bosom pour'd
Their dearest secrets, she was mov'd
To pity all--her heart a hoard,
Or storehouse, by this means became for all
The sorrows can to girls of tender age befall.
Though individually not much
Distress throughout the school prevail'd,
Yet as she shar'd it all, 'twas such
A weight of woe that her assail'd,
She lost her colour, loath'd her food, and grew
So dull, that all their confidence from her withdrew.
Released from her daily care,
No longer list'ning to complaint,
She seems to breathe a different air,
And health once more her cheek does paint.
Still Anna loves her friends, but will not hear
Again their list of grievances which cost so dear.
[The end]
Charles Lamb's poem: Confidant
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