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.
_Gold_. A. COWLEY.
The sweetest joy, the wildest woe is love;
The taint of earth, the odor of the skies
Is in it.
_Festus, Sc. Alcove, and Garden_. P.J. BAILEY.
Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure
Thrill the deepest notes of woe.
_On Sensibility_. R. BURNS.
Love is like a landscape which doth stand
Smooth at a distance, rough at hand.
_On Love_. R. HEGGE.
Vows with so much passion, swears with so much grace,
That 't is a kind of heaven to be deluded by him.
_Alexander the Great, Act i. Sc. 3_. N. LEE.
To love you was pleasant enough,
And O, 't is delicious to hate you!
_To_ ---- T. MOORE.