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The still skies hear a moaning
Among celestial airs;
Low at the throne are drooping
The winds that carry prayers,
The Face that is the light of heaven
Grows sad with pitying;
For a heartache, a heartache,
Is such a common thing!

 

Where flesh to flesh complaineth
Griefs are a clamorous host;
When silence lieth deepest
The heavens listen most.
In unsuspected ministry
Stoops many an angel-wing;
For a heartache, a heartache
Is such a common thing!

 

A costly thing to carry,
Of all things, is a heart;
Who ever knew he had it,
Until he felt it smart?
The wandering pain is quick to come,
To come again and cling;
O, a heartache, a heartache
Is such a common thing.

 

A heart is that which opens
To trouble's thousand ways;
An unseen arrow wounds it,
To halt through all its days.
An evil eye may scatter blight,
A flitting mite may sting;
No wonder that a heartache
Is such a common thing!

 

Thrice is he armed who carries
A heart secure from harm
But nothing wholly human
Had ever such a charm.
For joy I know hath still unrest,
And love still fluttering;
All the world round, a heartache
Is such a common thing!

 

Full-throated are the singers
That dwell in deepest shade;
It's less of joy than sorrow
Our sweetest songs are made.
There's never silence in the breast
That hath so sweet a spring;
O, a heartache, a heartache
Is such a common thing!

 

Entreat who will of pity--
Friend, let not you and I!
There is not heart's ease growing
Enough for all who sigh.
O never mind us, merry world,
We too will dance and sing;
For a heartache, a heartache,
Is but a common thing!

 

One certain cure for heartache,
But one was ever told;
There's naught so quickly healing
As is the churchyard mould.
How well it is the very one
That time is sure to bring;
Since a heartache, a heartache
Is such a common thing.