Crying

“ So, faintly calling and crying Till the sun is under the sea, Crying and moaning till the stars Come out for company, He thinks of his brother and sister, Asleep in their safe warm bed; He thinks of his father and mother, Of himself as dying—and dead ”

“ He never even said, as I have heard men say at the first starting of tears—not after they have been flowing, like mine, for weeks and weeks—"Why don't you make an effort to control yourself? You know perfectly well that crying only makes you worse and does nobody any good"—as if a poor mother cried from choice and perversity and the pleasure of doing it, when her heart was broken! ”

“ Speak, thou soul of my soul, for rage in my heart is kindled.
Tell me, where didst thou flee in the day of destruction and fear?
See, my arms still enfold thee, enfolding thus all heaven,
See, my desire is fulfill’d in thee, for it fills the earth.
Thus in my grief I lamented. Then turn’d I from the window,
Turn’d to the stair, and the open door, and the empty street,
Crying aloud in my grief, for there was none to chide me,
None to mock my weakness, none to behold my tears. ”

“ I verily believe that her not remembering and not minding in the least, made me cry again, inwardly,—and that is the sharpest crying of all. ”

“ "You won't make yourself a bit realler by crying," Tweedledee remarked: "there's nothing to cry about." ”

“ You had been removing the traces of tears.”
“Girls are mostly always crying, sir; often they don't know for why, but they don't care to have it noticed always.”
“Nor would it be polite or generous; but this of yours is a deep grief, and alarms me for you. Shall I tell you how I know? You often yawn and often sigh; when these two things come together at your age they are signs of a heavy grief; then it comes out that you have lost your relish for things that once pleased you. ”

“ Crying is the refuge of plain women but the ruin of pretty ones. ”

“ "I wasn't crying about mothers," he said rather indignantly. "I was crying because I can't get my shadow to stick on. Besides, I wasn't crying." ”

“ She made a gesture as if about to throw herself on me, then stopped, crying:
"Have pity! Have pity! Let me die! What you are making me suffer is worse than a thousand deaths. I have borne everything, I am capable of bearing everything; but not that, no, I cannot, I cannot. If I live it will mean for us both a constant martyrdom—a martyrdom that will daily become more terrible. And you will begin to hate me, all your hate will be vented on me. I am sure of it, sure. I have already felt the hate in your voice. Have pity! Let me die!" ”

“ What secret misery was thine, Which set a bar 'twixt thee and me? Alas, I suffer from it still; What was this grief, this unknown ill, Which I have wept so bitterly? POET. 'T was but a common grief, well known of men. But, look you, when our heavy heart is sore, Fond wretches that we are! we fancy then That sorrow never has been felt before. MUSE. There cannot be a common grief, Save that of common souls; my friend, Speak out, and give thy heart relief, Of this grim secret make an end. Confide in me, and have no fear. The God of silence, pale, austere, Is younger brother unto death. ”

“ Tears seem to her the natural food
Of widow'd childless age;
And bitter though these tears must be,
Which falling there is none to see,
Her anguish they assuage.
[Pg 157] A calm succeeds the storm of grief,
A settled calm, that brings relief,
And half partakes of pleasure, soft and mild;
For the spirit, that is sore distrest,
At length, when wearied into rest,
Will slumber like a child.
And then, in spite of all her woe,
The bliss, that charm'd her long ago,
Bursts on her like the day.
Her child, she feels, is living still,
By God and angels kept from ill
On some isle far away. ”

“ O how her eyes and tears did lend and borrow!
Her eyes seen in the tears, tears in her eye,
Both crystals, where they view'd each others sorrow,
Sorrow, that friendly sighs sought still to dry:
⁠But like a stormy day, now wind, now rain,
⁠Sighs dry her cheeks, tears make them wet again.
Variable passions throng her constant woe,
As striving which should best become her grief.
All entertain'd, each passion labours so,
That every present sorrow seemeth chief:
But none is best; then join they altogether,
Like many clouds consulting for foul weather. ”

“ Lo, how contrasted the effect of a similar cause of grief at different stages of life! Chase the first day-dreams of our youth, and we cry, "Action—Strife!" In that cry, unconsciously to ourselves, Hope speaks, and proffers worlds of emotion not yet exhausted. ”

“ And then in a last agonized failure she began to grizzle, to cry in a shivery little fashion of a child that doesn’t want to cry, but which is beaten from within, and gives that little first shudder of sobbing which is not yet weeping, dry and fearful.
He had won. She stood there absolutely helpless, shuddering her dry sobs and her mouth trembling rapidly. And then, as in a child, with a little crash came the tears and the blind agony of sightless weeping. She sank down on the grass, and sat there with her hands on her breast and her face lifted in sightless, convulsed weeping. ”

“ That have cleft my heart in twain?
Must I, to the very lees,
Drain thy bitter chalice, Pain?
Silent grief all grief excels;
Life and it together part,
Like a restless worm it dwells
Deep within the human heart! ”

“ And the head let a great pitiful cry of pain.
“So,” said the Prince of the Stones, “did the poor virgins cry out when thou madest them pass from life unto death; sixteen times hast thou brought death about, sixteen times shalt thou die, besides the death thou hast suffered already. The cry is the cry of the body when the soul leaves it; sixteen times hast thou drawn this cry from other bodies, sixteen times shall cry out thine own; sing, Miserable, to call the virgins to the reckoning.” ”

“ At once to mark and sooth the grief
There flows the sorrow-starting tear.
There is indeed a grief that scorns
The channel of a watery eye,
But then it breaks the thread of life,
Or heats the brain to agony. ”

“ Thinking, unpained, of the sad surprise
⁠Of those who shall find me thus fall'n to rest;
And the grief in their looks when they learn no endeavor,
Can disturb my repose—for my sleep is forever.
I know that a smile will lie hid in my eyes,
⁠Even a soft throb of joy stir the pulse in my breast,
When they sit down to mourning, with tears and with sighs,
⁠And shudder at death, which to me is but rest. ”

“ Oh, the bitter tears I have shed when, scarcely more than a child, I have wept to hear other boys tell of happy homes, and a mother’s love, and the affection of brothers and sisters; then came the silent but more enduring sorrow of youth, when tears can no longer form a vent for the heart’s isolation, and the restless spirit preys upon itself ”

“ Now as, after the nature of a human being, I felt pain because of her tears and her mournful voice, I began to cry out loudly, and to sigh and moan bitterly, and then all those who were sleeping in our house awoke, and when they had risen up, they questioned me and I told them the reason of the outcry and disturbance, and I narrated unto them everything which had appeared unto me. ”

“ To have cried in childhood as I cried then, incessantly and for months, sometimes for the greater part of the day under a bed, that none of these mocking young creatures might see me and laugh at me; to have stood so intolerably alone among so many, without a hand to dry my eyes, a kiss to comfort me, a soft breast against which I could rest my tired little head and sob out my tale of sorrow,—this is to start permanently maimed for the battle of life. ”

“ Her anxious heart to joy can rise,
Or sink where anguish dwells!
Yet tho' her soul must griefs sustain
Which she alone, can know;
And feel that keener sense of pain
Which sharpens every woe;
Tho' she the mourner's grief to calm,
Still shares each pang they feel,
And, like the tree distilling balm,
Bleeds, others wounds to heal ”

“ Death came on rapidly in deep, resounding roars, and the misery of the cringing, suffering brute was unfolded—told in heart-rending intonations, until at last he gave up his breath in one terror-stricken cry. ”

“ The heart to soothe its griefs in tears to steep;
⁠As rain we see subdue the raging wave.
Weep then, ay, weep! others, and abler friends
⁠As faithful, with success may in thine ears
Make heard the voice that stoic virtue lends;
⁠But I, who in the world my cup of tears
Oft to the dregs have drain'd, no cure could find
⁠For grief, but what from grief I might derive;
When with vain struggling tired, the powerless mind
⁠Submissive ceased beneath the weight to strive. ”

“ Like a dew-drop from heaven in the ocean of life,
From the morn's rosy diadem falling,
A stranger as yet to the storms and the strife,
Dear babe, of thy earthly calling!
Thine eyes have unclosed on this valley of tears;
Hark! that cry is the herald of anguish and woe;
Thy young spirit finds a deep voice for its fears,
Prophetic of all that is passing below. ”

“ My hand and my tears, for faintly they touched thee!
He trembleth, and waketh not: O me, my darling!
Hope whispers that thou hear'st me through sleep, and wouldst waken,
But for dread that thou dreamest and I should be gone.
Doth it please thee in dreaming that I tremble and dread thee,
That these tears are the tears of one praying vainly,
Who shall pray with no word when thou hast awakened?
—Yet how shall I deal with my life if he love not,
As how should he love me, a stranger, unheard of?
—O bear witness, thou day that hast brought my love hither! ”

“ Tears of joy well out as fast as generated, for the eyelids stiffen under the influence of gladness and eject the tears automatically. In sorrow the eyes seem to recede and the eye-lids grow flabby and helpless, and the tears stand in pools around the corners of the eyes, as though lacking the courage to gush out and part with the aching heart beneath. ”

“ Fathers, these tears were useless, these sad tears
That fall from my old eyes; but there is cause
We all should weep; tear off these purple Robes,
And wrap our selves in Sack-cloth, sitting down
On the sad Earth, and cry aloud to Heaven. ”

“ And when the overwhelming burst of grief is calmed into the gentle tear of recollection, when the sudden anguish and the convulsive agony over the present ruins of all that we most loved, is softened away into pensive meditation on all that it was in the days of its loveliness, who would root out such a sorrow from the heart? ”

“ Thus did the child cry through the mouth of the man, seeking vengeance upon the father; and because of the intensity of the passion and because of the conditions under which it developed and because of the nature of the buried complexes to which the cry made such a profound appeal, one fourth of the human race, and that the unchangeable one, has not been merely influenced but utterly remoulded. ”

“ And close up these my weary weeping eyes:
Whose spring of tears doth stop my vital breath,
And tears my heart with Sorrow's sigh-swoll'n cries:
Come and possess my tired thought-worn soul,
That living dies, till thou on me be stole. ”

“ A cry of tears goes up from blackened homesteads, A cry of blood goes up from reeking earth: Tears and blood have a cry that pierces Heaven Through all its Hallelujah swells of mirth; God hears their cry, and though He tarry, yet He doth not forget. [177] Mournful Mother, prone in dust weeping, Who shall comfort thee for those who are not? As thou didst, men do to thee; and heap the measure, And heat the furnace sevenfold hot: As thou once, now these to thee--who pitieth thee From sea to sea? ”

“ Within her narrow cell oppressed with dread, Bare of adornment and with grief-bowed head Lamenting, many a tear her sad eyes shed, She weeps with anguish in the gloomy night. For tears my burden seem to lighten best, Could I but weep my heart's blood, I might rest. My spirit bows with mighty grief oppressed, I utter forth my prayer within the night. Youth's charm has like a fleeting shadow gone, With eagle wings the hours of life have flown. ”

“ The cry of a child, to an experienced doctor, is, each and all, a distract sound, and is as expressive as the notes of the gamut. The cry of passion, for instance, is a furious cry; the cry of sleepiness is a drowsy cry; the cry of grief is a sobbing cry; the cry of an infant when roused from sleep is a shrill cry; the cry of hunger is very characteristic,—it is unaccompanied with tears, and is a wailing cry; the cry of teething is a fretful cry ”

“ Grief, sudden and violent, expresses itself by beating the head; groveling on the ground; tearing of garments, hair, and flesh; screaming aloud, weeping, stamping with the feet, lifting the eyes, from time to time, to heaven; hurrying to and fro, running distracted, or fainting away, sometimes without recovery. Sometimes violent grief produces a torpid silence, resembling total apathy. ”

“ They cry from dawn to dawn and none heed them: we pass upon the other side. Man and woman, child and beast. I hear their dumb cry in the night. The child's sob in the silence, the man's fierce curse of wrong. The dog beneath the vivisector's knife, the overdriven brute, the creature tortured for an hour that a gourmet may enjoy an instant's pleasure; they cried to me. The wrong and the sorrow and the pain, the long, low, endless moan God's ears are weary of; I hear it day and night. I thought to help. ”

“ You, who devote yourself to melancholy, the moon, and the source of tears, are not so very sad as you think. You cry a good deal, I don’t doubt. But when grief goes below tears, and forces you in self-defence to try to forget it, not to sit and fondle it,—then you will understand more than you do now. ”

“ A sob rises in his throat, choking his utterance to a degree where it becomes impossible for him to speak more than three or four hundred words per minute; grief dims his eye; regret—not on his own account but for others—droops his shoulders. ”

“ When the sad earth, broken-hearted, Hath not even a tear to shed, And her very soul seems parted For her children lying dead, Send the streams with warmer pulses Through that frozen fount of fears, And the sorrow that convulses, Soothe and soften down to tears. ”

“ It was one of those cries which can only come from a heart in its utmost agony - a cry which might have heralded the spirit to another world, and proclaimed as it very nearly did, the destruction of the intellect for ever. ”