When old wounds bleed again br In the silence of the night, br And mixt with sweet delight br Wells up the stream of pain, br Is it less hard to endure br That when the sword struck first br So keen, with edge so sure? br Was that wild hour the worst? br br O then a too strong smart br O'erwhelmed the senses' power. br Now in some tranquil hour br When, fortified, the heart br Is capable at ease br Of sorrow, now returns br By exquisite degrees br Pain, and in silence burns. br br Is this still woe forlorn br Less than that fierce despair? br Perhaps 'tis worse to bear br Because 'tis easier borne.