They talk of short-lived pleasure--be it so-- <br />Pain dies as quickly; stern, hard-featured pain <br />Expires, and lets her weary prisoner go. <br />The fiercest agonies have shortest reign; <br />And after dreams of horror, comes again <br />The welcome morning with its rays of peace. <br />Oblivion, softly wiping out the stain, <br />Makes the strong secret pangs of pain to cease: <br /> <br />Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase <br />Are fruits of innocence and blessedness; <br />Thus joy, o'erborne and bound, doth still release <br />His young limbs from the chains that round him press. <br />Weep not that the world changes--did it keep <br />A stable, changeless state, 'twere cause indeed to weep.<br /><br />William Cullen Bryant<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mutation/
