82.
"To Sorrow I bade good-morrow,And thought to leave her far away behind;
But cheerly, cheerly, She loves me dearly:
She is so constant to me, and so kind."
— Keats
Sorrow helps us immensely. It is apt to humble our pride. It chastens us. It opens our hearts to magnanimity and sympathy. To check our innumerable errors and make us watch ourselves and put us on the road to perfection, sorrow must necessarily exist in the world.
