There's one sad truth in life I've foundWhile journeying east and west -The only folks we really woundAre those we love the best.

Oh! I know this truth, if I know no other,That passionate Love is Pain's own mother.

If there be mortal without love,He wakes to no new life above.

Life hurries pasttoo strong to stop;too sweet to loose.

So young, and yet I have had all of life.Why, men have lived to see a hundred years,Who have not known the rapture, joy, and strifeOf my brief youth, its passion and its tears.

'Tis the set of the sail that decides the goal, and not the storm of life