Читать книгу The Golden Treasury - Unknown - Страница 32

     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-bemoanéd 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.