Great, good, and just, could I but rate
My grief with thy too rigid fate,
I'd weep the world in such a strain
As it should deluge once again;
But since thy loud-tongued blood demands supplies
More from Briareus' hands than Argus' eyes,
I'll sing thy obsequies with trumpet sounds
And write thy epitaph in blood and wounds.
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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.
O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last,
And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand,
read more
O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last,
And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand,
Have written strange defeatures in my face.
The only cure for grief is action.
The only cure for grief is action.
There is no grief like the grief that does not speak
There is no grief like the grief that does not speak
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.]
There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief.
There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief.
Grief. The pain now is part of the happiness then. That's the deal.
Grief. The pain now is part of the happiness then. That's the deal.
Waste not fresh tears over old griefs.
Waste not fresh tears over old griefs.
There is no grief which time does not lessen and soften.
[Lat., Nullus dolor est quem non longinquitas temporis read more
There is no grief which time does not lessen and soften.
[Lat., Nullus dolor est quem non longinquitas temporis minuat ac
molliat.]
