WHEN to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste: Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, For precious friends hid in death's dateless night, And weep afresh love's long-since-cancelled woe, And moan the expense of many a vanished sight. Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, Which I new pay, as if not paid before; But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored, and sorrows end. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE EXECUTIVE by DAVID IGNATOW DOMESDAY BOOK: CHARLES WARREN, THE SHERIFF by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 8 by EZRA POUND WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL HESTER PRYNNE? by KAREN SWENSON PRAYER FOR COURAGE by LOUIS UNTERMEYER |