That men and women, kith and kin, so lightly heed of other:
Sympathy is lacking from the guilty such as we, even where angels minister,
And souls of fine accord must prize a fellow-sinner's love;
For the worst love those who love them, and the best claim heart for heart,
And it is a holy thirst to long for love's requital:
Hard it will be, hard and sad, to love and be unloved;
And many a thorn is thrust into the side of him that is forgotten.
The oppressive silence of reserve, the frost of failing friendship,
Affection blighted by repulse, or chilled by shallow courtesy,
The unaided struggle, the unconsidered grief, the unesteemed self-sacrifice,