REGRET.
There is no time, in life, for vain regret; The days have passed, the hours are passing yet. Each moment wasted by regretful sigh Will count as worthless in the by and by, Till life itself, which God to man has given, Will be unworthy of the peace of Heaven. A vain regret is but an added wrong,— It makes the past a sorrow, not a song; It robs the present of its very best And fills the future with a vague unrest. The little wrongs can never be made right By keeping them before the human sight; Better it is to give them scanty space By putting virtue in its proper place; Better it is to let the whole heart sing Than let it sigh o’er one regretted thing.