Nature knows best, and she says, roar!

Nature knows best, and she says, roar!

A man of pleasure is a man of pains.

A man of pleasure is a man of pains.

Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale.
from the poem
The Cotter’s Saturday Night.

Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale.
from the poem
The Cotter’s Saturday Night.

He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man.

He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man.

Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning;
One pain is less'ned by another's anguish;
Turn giddy, read more

Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning;
One pain is less'ned by another's anguish;
Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;
One desperate grief cures with another's languish.

Nothing begins, and nothing ends, That is not paid with moan; For we are born in others' pain read more

Nothing begins, and nothing ends, That is not paid with moan; For we are born in others' pain And perish in our own.

Never a lip is curved with pain That can't be kissed into smiles again.

Never a lip is curved with pain That can't be kissed into smiles again.

Pain is no longer pain when it is past.

Pain is no longer pain when it is past.

There is one pain I often feel, which you will never know. It is caused by the absence of you.

There is one pain I often feel, which you will never know. It is caused by the absence of you.