The pain others give passes away in their later kindness, but that of our own blunders, especially when they hurt our vanity, never passes away
For such, Being made beautiful overmuch, Consider beauty a sufficient end, Lose natural kindness and maybe The heart-revealing intimacy That chooses right, and never find a friend.
And many a poor man that has roved Loved and thought himself beloved From a glad kindness cannot take his eyes.
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