In “Sung to the Social Reformer,” Anna Wickham’s speaker pushes back against the dream of a flawless society. She asks the reformer not to strip away sorrow or tears, because a future made “too perfect” could feel empty and suffocating. The grief and struggle she defends are not glamorized; they are presented as basic, world-old human needs. A newborn, she argues, should still be allowed the comfort of crying, and passionate young people should still have the right to fight for what they want. These are not flaws to be fixed but parts of a full life. Sorrow here is not despair; it belongs to being fully human. The repeated opening and closing lines make it feel like a song or a gentle, stubborn protest. The mood is melancholy but defiant — a warning that removing pain might also remove something essential from being alive.
Sung to the Social Reformer — Summary
Leave us our sorrows, Take not our tears, For long to-morrows Of too perfect years.
To the New-born can you deny The world-old solace of a cry; Or to hot Youth the eternal right To win his having with a fight?
Leave us our sorrows, Take not our tears, For long to-morrows Of too perfect years.