To A.S. on His Daughter's Wedding
THERE is no joy all set apart from pain,
The opening bud has loss as well as gain.
The brighest dewdropp gems a bending flower,
The rarest day has wept one little shower;
But wholly blest the parting pain and ruth
That hold and fold the joining love of youth.
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
Added by Poetry Lover
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