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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On me, on me
Time and change can heap no more!
The painful past with blighting grief
read more
On me, on me
Time and change can heap no more!
The painful past with blighting grief
Hath left my heart a withered leaf.
Time and change can do no more.
The risk of love is loss, and the price of loss is grief -But the pain of griefIs only a read more
The risk of love is loss, and the price of loss is grief -But the pain of griefIs only a shadowWhen compared with the painOf never risking love.
Those things that hurt, instruct.
Those things that hurt, instruct.
This grief is crowned with consolation, you old smock brings
forth a new petticoat, and indeed the tears live read more
This grief is crowned with consolation, you old smock brings
forth a new petticoat, and indeed the tears live in an onion that
should water this sorrow.
Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common read more
Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys. -Alphonse de Lamartine.
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.
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.]
What need a man forestall his date of grief,
And run to meet what he would most avoid?
What need a man forestall his date of grief,
And run to meet what he would most avoid?
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?]
