- HEN to the sessions of sweet silent thought
- I summon up remembrance of things past,
- I sigh the lack of many a thought 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 cancelled woe,
- And moan th' expense of many a vanished sight.
- Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
- And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
- The sad account of fore-bemoanèd 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.
by: William Shakespeare (1564-1616)