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Sonnet 30

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 woe 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 the 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 be-moaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I look on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and sorrows end.

But If The While...

Thursday, February 26, 2009

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Sonnet 30