For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
Wordsworth.
Ah, happy she! to ’scape from him whose kiss
Had been pollution unto aught so chaste;
Who soon had left her charms for vulgar bliss,
And spoiled her goodly lands to gild his waste,
Nor calm domestic peace had ever deigned to taste.
Byron.