 LIFE'S TRAGEDY by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Alana Jordan, St. Louis, Missouri. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half-tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we counter joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. LIFE'S TRAGEDY by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Alex Eating. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half-tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we counter joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. LIFE'S TRAGEDY by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Bob Sherman. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half-tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. LIFE'S TRAGEDY by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Bologna Times. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half-tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. LIFE'S TRAGEDY by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Donald Finch, dafinch.com. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half-tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half-tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Ernst Patinama. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half-tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Eric Hale. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half-tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Greg Bowman. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half-tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Gemma Blythe. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half-tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Joy Chan. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half-tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Jim Fish on the Texas frontier, June the 27th, 2009. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half-tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lies aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what keeps us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Kent V.P. Ferguson. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half-tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect song, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lies aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Christine. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half-tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lies aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Christine Hughes. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to singing the perfect song, and only by a half-tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lies aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Leanne Howlett. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half-tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lies aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Leanne Coulson. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half-tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lies aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Lucy Perry. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half-tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there is the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lies aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what keep us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Mike Vendetti. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half note lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lies aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Mary Mester Goldman. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by P. D. Ratt. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half tone lost the key. There is a potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what keeps us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by P. D. Ratt. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Ruth Golding. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Raven Notation. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Secrets. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad staring of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside its vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Sarah Smith. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper grief than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad starting of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what keeps us from the perfect thing. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Life's tragedy by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Samantha Genwangs. It may be misery not to sing at all, and to go silent through the brimming day. It may be sorrow never to be loved, but deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect song, and only by a half tone lost the key. There is the potent sorrow, there the grief, the pale sad starting of life's tragedy. To have just missed the perfect love, not the hot passion of intempered youth, but that which lays aside vanity, and gives thee for thy trusting worship truth. This this it is to be accursed indeed, for if we mortals love or if we sing, we count our joys not by the things we have, but by what kept us from the perfect thing. End of poem,