A feeling of sadness and longing

That is not akin to pain,

And resembles sorrow only

As the mist resembles the rain.

Henry W Longfellow (1807-1882): The Day is done.

Oh would I were a boy again,

When life seemed formed of sunny years,

And all the heart then knew of pain

Was wept away in transient tears!

Mark Lemon (1809-1870): Oh would I were a Boy again.

O woman! in our hours of ease

Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,

And variable as the shade

By the light quivering aspen made;

When pain and anguish wring the brow,

A ministering angel thou!

Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832): Marmion. Canto vi. Stanza 30.

The applause of list'ning senates to command,

The threats of pain and ruin to despise,

To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land,

And read their history in a nation's eyes.

Thomas Gray (1716-1771): Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 16.

Then welcome each rebuff

That turns earth's smoothness rough,

Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand, but go!

Be our joys three-parts pain!

Strive, and hold cheap the strain;

Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!

Robert Browning (1812-1890): Rabbi Ben Ezra.

So, when a raging fever burns,

We shift from side to side by turns;

And 't is a poor relief we gain

To change the place, but keep the pain.

Isaac Watts (1674-1748): Hymns and Spiritual Songs. Book ii. Hymn 146.

Die of a rose in aromatic pain.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): Essay on Man. Epistle i. Line 200.

But for the unquiet heart and brain

A use in measured language lies;

The sad mechanic exercise

Like dull narcotics numbing pain.

Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892): In Memoriam. v. Stanza 2.

Truth crushed to earth shall rise again,—

The eternal years of God are hers;

But Error, wounded, writhes with pain,

And dies among his worshippers.

William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878): The Battle-Field.

The best laid schemes o' mice and men

Gang aft a-gley;

And leave us naught but grief and pain

For promised joy.

Robert Burns (1759-1796): To a Mouse.

To frown at pleasure, and to smile in pain.

Edward Young (1684-1765): Night Thoughts. Night viii. Line 1045.

Fear death?—to feel the fog in my throat,

The mist in my face.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .

No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers,

The heroes of old;

Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears

Of pain, darkness, and cold.

Robert Browning (1812-1890): Prospice.

A mighty pain to love it is,

And 't is a pain that pain to miss;

But of all pains, the greatest pain

It is to love, but love in vain.

Abraham Cowley (1618-1667): From Anacreon, vii. Gold.

Alas! by some degree of woe

We every bliss must gain;

The heart can ne'er a transport know

That never feels a pain.

Lord Lyttleton (1709-1773): Song.

Who, doomed to go in company with Pain

And Fear and Bloodshed,—miserable train!—

Turns his necessity to glorious gain.

William Wordsworth (1770-1850): Character of the Happy Warrior.

A mighty pain to love it is,

And 't is a pain that pain to miss;

But of all pains, the greatest pain

It is to love, but love in vain.

Abraham Cowley (1618-1667): From Anacreon, vii. Gold.

Lord, Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown!

What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears!

What ugly sights of death within mine eyes!

Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks,

Ten thousand men that fishes gnawed upon,

Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,

Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,

All scattered in the bottom of the sea:

Some lay in dead men's skulls; and in those holes

Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept,

As 't were in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 4.

The labour we delight in physics pain.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Macbeth. Act ii. Sc. 3.

We look before and after,

And pine for what is not;

Our sincerest laughter

With some pain is fraught;

Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.

Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822): To a Skylark. Line 86.

One fire burns out another's burning,

One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Romeo and Juliet. Act i. Sc. 2.

A mighty pain to love it is,

And 't is a pain that pain to miss;

But of all pains, the greatest pain

It is to love, but love in vain.

Abraham Cowley (1618-1667): From Anacreon, vii. Gold.

The best laid schemes o' mice and men

Gang aft a-gley;

And leave us naught but grief and pain

For promised joy.

Robert Burns (1759-1796): To a Mouse.

Then with no throbs of fiery pain,

No cold gradations of decay,

Death broke at once the vital chain,

And freed his soul the nearest way.

Samuel Johnson (1709-1784): Verses on the Death of Mr. Robert Levet. Stanza 9.

Then with no throbs of fiery pain,

No cold gradations of decay,

Death broke at once the vital chain,

And freed his soul the nearest way.

Samuel Johnson (1709-1784): Verses on the Death of Mr. Robert Levet. Stanza 9.

Only I discern

Infinite passion, and the pain

Of finite hearts that yearn.

Robert Browning (1812-1890): Two in the Campagna. xii.

There is a land of pure delight,

Where saints immortal reign;

Infinite day excludes the night,

And pleasures banish pain.

Isaac Watts (1674-1748): Hymns and Spiritual Songs. Book ii. Hymn 66.

Spangling the wave with lights as vain

As pleasures in the vale of pain,

That dazzle as they fade.

Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832): Lord of the Isles. Canto i. Stanza 23.

Lightly from fair to fair he flew,

And loved to plead, lament, and sue;

Suit lightly won, and short-lived pain,

For monarchs seldom sigh in vain.

Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832): Marmion. Canto v. Stanza 9.

To sigh, yet feel no pain;

To weep, yet scarce know why;

To sport an hour with Beauty's chain,

Then throw it idly by.

Thomas Moore (1779-1852): The Blue Stocking.

Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain

That has been, and may be again.

William Wordsworth (1770-1850): The Solitary Reaper.

Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade!

Ah, fields beloved in vain!

Where once my careless childhood stray'd,

A stranger yet to pain!

I feel the gales that from ye blow

A momentary bliss bestow.

Thomas Gray (1716-1771): On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 2.

Rich the treasure,

Sweet the pleasure,—

Sweet is pleasure after pain.

John Dryden (1631-1701): Alexander's Feast. Line 58.

To each his suff'rings; all are men,

Condemn'd alike to groan,—

The tender for another's pain,

Th' unfeeling for his own.

Yet ah! why should they know their fate,

Since sorrow never comes too late,

And happiness too swiftly flies?

Thought would destroy their paradise.

No more; where ignorance is bliss,

'T is folly to be wise.

Thomas Gray (1716-1771): On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 10.

Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain

That has been, and may be again.

William Wordsworth (1770-1850): The Solitary Reaper.

For who would lose,

Though full of pain, this intellectual being,

Those thoughts that wander through eternity,

To perish rather, swallow'd up and lost

In the wide womb of uncreated night?

John Milton (1608-1674): Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 146.

Oh stay! oh stay!

Joy so seldom weaves a chain

Like this to-night, that oh 't is pain

To break its links so soon.

Thomas Moore (1779-1852): Fly not yet.

For too much rest itself becomes a pain.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): The Odyssey of Homer. Book xv. Line 429.

Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see,

My heart untravell'd fondly turns to thee;

Still to my brother turns with ceaseless pain,

And drags at each remove a lengthening chain.

Oliver Goldsmith (1728-1774): The Traveller. Line 7.

Ease would recant

Vows made in pain, as violent and void.

John Milton (1608-1674): Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 96.