Excessive sorrow laughs. Excessive joy weeps.

When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy, And the dimpling stream runs laughing by; When the air does laugh with our merry wit, And the green hill laughs with the noise of it.

Can I see another's woe, / And not be in sorrow too?

He who binds to himself a joy doth the winged life destroy. But he who kisses the joy as it flies lives in Eternity's sunrise.

The busy bee has no time for sorrow.

Can I see another's woe, and not be in sorrow, too? Can I see another's grief, and not seek for kind relief?