• Shakespeare's 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 woes new wail my dear time's waste:
    Then can I drown an eye, unus'd 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 restor'd and sorrows end.