Great, good, and just, could I but rate
My grief with thy too rigid fate,
I'd weep read more

Great, good, and just, could I but rate
My grief with thy too rigid fate,
I'd weep the world in such a strain
As it should deluge once again;
But since thy loud-tongued blood demands supplies
More from Briareus' hands than Argus' eyes,
I'll sing thy obsequies with trumpet sounds
And write thy epitaph in blood and wounds.

Tears are the silent language of grief

Tears are the silent language of grief

What impropriety or limit can there be in our grief for a man so
beloved?
[Lat., Quis desiderio read more

What impropriety or limit can there be in our grief for a man so
beloved?
[Lat., Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus
Tam cari capitis?]

In all the silent manliness of grief.

In all the silent manliness of grief.

While grief is fresh, every attempt to divert only irritates. You must wait till it be digested, and then amusement read more

While grief is fresh, every attempt to divert only irritates. You must wait till it be digested, and then amusement will dissipate the remains of it.

My grief lies all within, And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells read more

My grief lies all within, And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells with silence in the tortured soul

Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common read more

Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys. -Alphonse de Lamartine.

This grief is crowned with consolation, you old smock brings
forth a new petticoat, and indeed the tears live read more

This grief is crowned with consolation, you old smock brings
forth a new petticoat, and indeed the tears live in an onion that
should water this sorrow.

Let me moderate our sorrows. The grief of a man should not
exceed proper bounds, but be in proportion read more

Let me moderate our sorrows. The grief of a man should not
exceed proper bounds, but be in proportion to the blow he has
received.
[Lat., Ponamus nimios gemitus: flagrantior aequo
Non debet dolor esse viri, nec vulnere major.]