The Plaint Human
Season of snows, and season of flowers,
Seasons of loss and gain!--
Since grief and joy must alike be ours,
Why do we still complain?
Ever our failing, from sun to sun,
O my intolerent brother:--
We want just a little too little of one,
And much too much of the other.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Added by Poetry Lover
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