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.]

Great, good, and just, could I but rate
My grief with thy too rigid fate,
I'd weep read more

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.

Those things that hurt, instruct.

Those things that hurt, instruct.

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.

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!]

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.

There is no grief like the grief that does not speak

There is no grief like the grief that does not speak

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.

He that conceals his grief finds no remedy for it

He that conceals his grief finds no remedy for it