2010
01
Aug
William Shakespeare
When To The Session 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 Deathšs Dateless Night,
And Weep Afresh Love’s Long Since Cancelled Woe,
And Moan The Expense Of Many A Vanishšd 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.
