The Confidant

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.