| Lyrics: | 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 restored and sorrows end. |
