They call be strong because my tears I shed where none may see;

Because I laugh, tell merry jokes and win the crowd to me;

They call me strong because I smile to ease a broken heart,

Because I keep the sweet side out and hide the bitter part.

But, O, could they who call me strong, spend but one hour with me,

When I am wrung with awful grief in my Gethsemane!

They call me strong because I toil from early morn till late,

Well knowing there will be no smile to meet me at the gate.

They call me strong because I hide an inward pain with jest,

And drive away the cares that come unbidden to my breast;

Perhaps ‘tis strength God knoweth best; He gave the cares to me!

And His the strength mot mine that keeps in my Gethsemane."