When to the sessions of sweet silent thought <br /> I summon up remembrance of things past, <br /> I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, <br /> And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste: <br /> Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, <br /> For precious friends hid in death's dateless night, <br /> And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe, <br /> And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight: <br /> Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, <br /> And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er <br /> The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, <br /> Which I new pay as if not paid before. <br /> But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, <br /> All losses are restored and sorrows end.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xxx/
