Read it through once

You wept for the poverty of the world, for the waste of life and for the futility of endeavour. You did not weep for the loss of one man, but for the losses of all men: for the failure of effort, for the ambitions that find their end in nothing, for the loves that have no consummation. You did not raise your head; you did not speak. I sat looking at you, and now and again I made some light remark to keep the conversation going.