O men with sisters dear, O men with mothers and wives, It is not linen you 're wearing out, But human creatures' lives!

O men with sisters dear, O men with mothers and wives, It is not linen you 're wearing out, But human creatures' lives!

How widely its agencies vary,- To save, to ruin, to curse, to bless,- As even its minted coins express, Now stamp'd with the image of Good Queen Bess, And now of a Bloody Mary.

I resolved that, like the sun, as long as my day lasted, I would look on the bright side of everything.

And there is even a happiness That makes the heart afraid.

The best of friends fall out, and so his teeth had done some years ago.

There is not a string attuned to mirth but has its chord of melancholy.