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 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 forgone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er,
The sad account of fore be-moaned 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.
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought
And with old woes new wail my 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 forgone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er,
The sad account of fore be-moaned 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.
