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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

So great was the extremity of his pain and anguish, that he did
not only sigh but roar.

So great was the extremity of his pain and anguish, that he did
not only sigh but roar.

Pain is temporary. Quitting lasts forever.

Pain is temporary. Quitting lasts forever.

When there is pain, there are no words. All pain is the same.

When there is pain, there are no words. All pain is the same.

Pain is no longer pain when it is past.

Pain is no longer pain when it is past.