---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 1
number: 11
published: 1898-09
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: 'Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations, "The Tear of Pity," *Improvement Era* 1, no. 11 (September 1898): 806.'
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera111unse
  transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers.
  identifier: improvementera111unse
start_page: 806
end_page: 806
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1898-09)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera111unse
  publication_year: 1898
  note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1898, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# The Tear of Pity

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XXXII.
"Therefore, hear, Abraham, and see, behold your
seventh generation shall go with you, and they shall go into
a strange land, and be made servants unto those who shall
do evil unto them, as one hour of the aeon of godlessness; but
of the nation by whom they are made servants, shall I be the
judge."
THE TEAR OF PITY.
So bright the tear in Beauty's eye
Love half regrets to kiss it dry.
—Lord Byron.
There is a gem that far outshines
The diamond glittering in its ore,
The splendor of Peruvian mines,
Or Indus' gold-enamelled shores.
Search ye the caves of ocean wide,
No coral there can it excel;
Ask not the glittering child of pride
Its worth: alas! he cannot tell.
But yon old wretch, so thin and pale,
With grateful heart can well reply,
For, when he told his mournful tale,
It sparkled in my Mary's eye.