Some day I'll gather all the griefs I've known,
And all my little dreams that went astray,
And twist their broken links into a coil
To jingle on my wrist when I am gay.
And when my bracelet flashes, all will see,
And say in whispers, "Look, she used to cry.
But time is wise, and now her band of tears
Is just the merry clink she dances by.