Guilt is the source of sorrow,'tis the fiend, Th' avenging fiend,that follows us behind; With whips and stings.
Guilt is the source of sorrow,'tis the fiend, Th' avenging fiend,that follows us behind; With whips and stings.
Death is the privilege of human nature, And life without it were not worth our taking.
As if Misfortune made the throne her seat, And none could be unhappy but the great.
Is this that haughty, gallant, gay Lothario.
Your bounty is beyond my speaking But though my mouth be dumb, my heart shall thank you.
If you would have the nuptial union last, let virtue be the bond that ties it fast.
Is she not more than painting can express, Or youthful poets fancy when they love.
When our old Pleasures die, Some new One still is nigh Oh fair Variety
The joy of meeting pays the pangs of absence else who could bear it.
The storm of grief bears hard upon his youth, And bends him like a drooping flower to earth.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories