Charles H. Spurgeon on Psalms 142:6

Attend unto my cry.

Can I see another's woe,

And not be ill sorrow too?

Can I see another's grief,

And not seek for kind relief?

Can I see a falling tear,

And not feel my sorrow's share?

Can a father see his child

Weep, nor be with sorrow filled?

Can a mother sit and hear

An infant groan, an infant fear?

No, no; never can it be!

Never, never can it be!

And can he, who smiles on all,

Hear the wren, with sorrows small —

Hear the small bird's grief and care,

Hear the woes that infants bear,

And not sit beside the nest,

Pouring pity in its breast?

And not sit the cradle near,

Weeping tear on infant's tear?

And not sit both night and day

Wiping all our tears away?

Oh, no! never can it be!

Never, never can it be!

He doth give his joy to all;

He becomes an infant small;

He becomes a man of woe;

He doth feel the sorrow too.

Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,

And thy Maker is not by;

Think not thou canst weep a tear,

And thy Maker is not near.

Oh! he gives to us his joy,

That our grief he may destroy:

Till our grief is fled and gone,

He doth sit by us and moan. —William Blake (1757-1828), in "Songs of Innocence," 1789.