In similar vein to the recently quoted sonnet, this one reflects on ‘remembrance of things past’ and indeed, people who have passed on. I particularly like the final couplet. The preceding lines remind me of many who, as they say, could ‘gern for Ireland!’
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 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-bemoaned moan
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend
All losses are restored, and sorrows end.