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...SURFACES AND MASKS; 4 by CLARENCE MAJOR SIXTY-EIGHTH BIRTHDAY by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 68 by OMAR KHAYYAM HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY: 4 by EZRA POUND UPON HIS PICTURE by THOMAS RANDOLPH |