Were floods of tears to be unloosed
In tribute to my grief,
The doves of Noah ne'er read more

Were floods of tears to be unloosed
In tribute to my grief,
The doves of Noah ne'er had roost
Nor found an olive-leaf.

When we hear oxymoron
we think that those
who eat oxen become morons
.. their brains occluded
by animal fat
read more

When we hear oxymoron
we think that those
who eat oxen become morons
.. their brains occluded
by animal fat
.. cannot receive oxygen
When we hear Oxfam
we think famine..
that those who promote
oxeating
create famine.

She grieves sincerely who grieves unseen.
[Lat., Illa dolet vere qui sine teste dolet.]

She grieves sincerely who grieves unseen.
[Lat., Illa dolet vere qui sine teste dolet.]

Grief tears his heart, and drives him to and fro,
In all the raging impotence of woe.

Grief tears his heart, and drives him to and fro,
In all the raging impotence of woe.

What impropriety or limit can there be in our grief for a man so
beloved?
[Lat., Quis desiderio read more

What impropriety or limit can there be in our grief for a man so
beloved?
[Lat., Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus
Tam cari capitis?]

Let me moderate our sorrows. The grief of a man should not
exceed proper bounds, but be in proportion read more

Let me moderate our sorrows. The grief of a man should not
exceed proper bounds, but be in proportion to the blow he has
received.
[Lat., Ponamus nimios gemitus: flagrantior aequo
Non debet dolor esse viri, nec vulnere major.]

Grief is the agony of an instant; the indulgence of grief the blunder of a life.

Grief is the agony of an instant; the indulgence of grief the blunder of a life.

Suppressed grief suffocates, it rages within the breast, and is
forced to multiply its strength.
[Lat., Strangulat inclusus read more

Suppressed grief suffocates, it rages within the breast, and is
forced to multiply its strength.
[Lat., Strangulat inclusus dolor, atque exaestuat intus,
Cogitur et vires multiplicare suas.]

If our inward griefs were seen written on our brow, how many
would be pitied who are now envied!
read more

If our inward griefs were seen written on our brow, how many
would be pitied who are now envied!
[It., Se a ciascun l'interno affanno
Si leggesse in fronte scritto,
Quanti mai, che invidia fanno,
Ci farebbero pieta!]