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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 th\' 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:

\\xa0 \\xa0 But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,

\\xa0 \\xa0 All losses are restor\'d, and sorrows end.