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T. S. Eliot

XXX



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 cancell\'d woe,

And moan the expense of many a vanish\'d 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 restor\'d and sorrows end.

 	--William Shakespeare