A thought.it reads:
We rage and sigh, as we say we must
Supposing emotion is what to trust
Alack - there is a time for anger
Even pity can find a hearing then
Is that we are upset when --
As though suffering, it were a stranger?
I confess that I too oft see red
And I have wished another dead
And threw sackcloth upon my shoulder
As though some favor it might curry
Would my sad face make God hurry?
But each passion makes me older
But wiser not, unless perhaps
In that time, in that short lapse
We move to spirit from dust
And know why God waited, then
And mostly just listens when
We rage and sigh, as we say we must.