Grief

“ When sorrow weeps o'er virtue's sacred dust, Our tears become us, and our grief is just; Such were the tears he shed, who grateful pays This last sad tribute of his love and praise : Who mourns the best of wives and friends combin'd, Where female softness met a manly mind : Mourns, but not murmurs, sighs, but not despairs, Feels as a man, and as a Christian bears. ”

“ How mournful would be the history of these pages, could I write of that solemn under-current of grief that has swept through my heart, while each word has fallen, as it were, mechanically from my pen. I have written in a dream; my mind has been at work while my soul dwelt wholly with another. Between every sentence fear, and grief, and keen anxiety have broken up, known only to myself, and leaving no imprint on the page which my hand was tracing. My brother, my noble young brother, so good, so strong, once so full of hopeful life! ”

“ No longer I of hope shall sing, Of fame or joy, of love or art, Alas, not even of suffering, My lips are locked—I lean and cling, To hear the whisper of my heart. MUSE. What! am I like the autumn breeze for you, Which feeds on tears even to the very grave, For whom all grief is but a drop of dew? O poet, but one kiss—'t was I who gave. The weed I fain would root from out this sod Is thine own sloth—thy grief belongs to God. Whatever sorrow thy young heart have found, Open it well, this ever-sacred wound Dealt by dark angels—give thy soul relief. Naught makes us nobler than a noble grief. ”

“ By anguish which made pale the sun,
I hear him charge his saints that none
Among the creatures anywhere
Blaspheme against him with despair,
However darkly days go on.
Take from my head the thorn-wreath brown:
No mortal grief deserves that crown.
O supreme Love, chief misery,
The sharp regalia are for Thee,
Whose days eternally go on!
For us, ... whatever's undergone,
Thou knowest, willest what is done.
Grief may be joy misunderstood:
Only the Good discerns the good.
I trust Thee while my days go on.
Whatever's lost, it first was won!
We will not struggle nor impugn. ”

“ And cold, and dumb, and motionless, my heart grew at the sight!
My children, my loved children! do you view my bitter grief?
Look down upon your poor old sire, whose woe knows no relief!
The sunshine of mine eyes is gone, the comfort of my heart;
My life of life, my soul of soul, I've seen from earth depart!
What am I now? an aged man, to earth by sorrow bowed,
I weep within a stranger's home; lone, even in a crowd;
There is no sorrow like to mine, no grief like mine appears,
My once blithe Christmas is weighed down with anguish and with tears. ”

“ 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. ”

“ A sufferer with a touching face By love and grief made beautiful; Whose rapt religion lights the place Where death holds awful rule. The fair, tired soul whose twofold grief For child and father lends a tone Of pathos to the pallid leaf That sighs above the stone. The large beloved heart whereon She used to lean, lies still and cold, Where, like a seraph, shines the sun On flowerful green and gold. ”

“ That form, expressive of a soul divine,
So early blighted; and while life is mine,
With fond regret, and ceaseless grief deplored–
That grief, my angel! with too faithful art
Enshrines thy image in thy Mother's heart. ”

“ My grief I send to smite you, no pleasure, no belief, Lord of the battered grievance, what do you know of grief? I only know the praises to heaven that one man gave, That he came on earth for an instant, to stand beside a grave, The peace of a field of battle, where flowers are born of blood. I only know one evil that makes the whole world good. Beneath this single sorrow the globe of moon and sphere Turns to a single jewel, so bright and brittle and dear That I dread lest God should drop it, to be dashed into stars below. You that have snarled through the ages, take your answer and go. ”

“ Tragic with mighty winds and vaulting curves
Of sorrowful vast sound, and light that swerves
In blown and tossing eddies, branch and bole
Shudder and gesture with a grotesque dole,
A grief that misconceives the grief it serves ”

“ The Saviour meets the sorrowing one,
And they that bear the bier stand still,
The voice of grief is hushed in awe,
And all in silence wait His will.
The “Man of Sorrows” sees her woe,
He who knew grief, for grief can feel;
Weep not, thou mourner, Christ is near,
As Man to pity, God to heal. ”

“ 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! ”

“ Perhaps our sorrow may be of such a nature that we cannot reveal it even to our best-beloved. Our secret grief lies like ice upon our hearts, sending its chilling influences through every member. The hands hang down listlessly and the feeble knees smite together; the aching of the head is only exceeded by the aching of the heart. Yet no one knows the agony that paralyzes our life. Or, sadder still, the heart-friend may be snatched away, and while our hearts are breaking by reason of bereavement, we may have no one left to whom we may turn for comfort in our affliction. ”

“ And grieve not if your soul into Sheol has descended in grief,
And that in your life your body fared not according to your goodness,
But wait for the day of the judgement of sinners
And for the day of cursing and chastisement.
6. And yet when ye die the sinners speak over you:
‘As we die, so die the righteous,
And what benefit do they reap for their deeds?
7. Behold, even as we, so do they die in grief and darkness,
And what have they more than we? ”

“ Taste all the sad vicissitudes of grief;
How many steep in tears their scanty bread;
Or, lost to reason, Sorrow's victims! rave:
How many know not where to lay their head;
While some are driven by anguish to the grave! ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ Alone and fearless through its depths profound.
Snatches of heavenly harpings made thee glad,
Even to thy latest gasp.
Therefore the grief
Born at thy grave is not like other grief.
Tears mix with joy. We praise our God for thee. ”

“ Follow Thee with holy hasting,
Led by Thy dear Hand
To the Blessed land.
Through despondence dread,
Still support our tread;
Though our heavy burdens bow us,
How to bear them bravely, show us!
Such adversity
Is but the path to Thee.
When our bosom's grief
Clamours for relief,
When we share another's sorrow,
May we Thy sweet patience borrow,
That to our Heavenly Father's Will
We may trust each issue still. ”

“ Me more thy sorrow now has grieved,
⁠Than thy disdain before.
My bliss! I pray no more to swerve!
⁠Calm those heart-breaking pains:
Thy grief to have, does not deserve
⁠All that the world contains. ”

“ Yet there are griefs which our consoling sky
May not efface: but where will grief convey
Noble and soft impressions to the soul,
As it does here?
Elsewhere the living cannot find them space
For all their hurrying paths, and ardent hopes ”

“ Could I believe that grief for the dead, and not sorrow for the conduct of the living, moved her thus, I should be happy. Then I could offer consolation and sympathy; but now, if I saw her, what could I say? Pity, sorrow for her grief, would be but idle words, which she would spurn with contempt,—and she would be right. ”

“ Is not grief, is not the heart in its wringing agony, the soul that would melt away in sorrow, a holy and godly offering, which amid your burning tears you lay, as the most precious of your possessions, before the everlasting Love of the Most High? ”

“ Cease then that grief, and let those tears subside:
If Passion rule us, be that passion Pride;
If Reason, Reason bids us strive to raise
Our sinking hearts, and be like him we praise;
Or if Affection still the soul subdue,⁠
Bring all his virtues, all his worth in view,
And let Affection find its comfort too;
For how can grief so deeply wound the heart,
Where admiration claims so large a part?
Grief is a foe, expel him then thy soul ”

“ Thy life on earth was grief, and thou art still
Constant unto it, making it to be
A point of honour, now to grieve in me,
And in thy members suffer ill.
They who lament one crosse,
Thou dying daily, praise thee to thy losse. ”

“ For grief spread its shadowy pinions, like a blight, upon the whole. Jar one chord, the harp is silent; move one stone, the arch is shattered; One small clarion-cry of sorrow bids an armed host awake. One dark cloud can hide the sunlight; loose one string, the pearls are scattered; Think one thought, a soul may perish; say one word, a heart may break. ”

“ 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? ”

“ To see the salve doth make the wound ache more;
Great grief grieves most at that would do it good;
Deep woes roll forward like a gentle flood,
Who, being stopped, the bounding banks o’erflows;
Grief dallied with nor law nor limit knows.
“You mocking birds,” quoth she, “your tunes entomb
Within your hollow-swelling feathered breasts,
And in my hearing be you mute and dumb;
My restless discord loves no stops nor rests.
A woeful hostess brooks not merry guests.
Relish your nimble notes to pleasing ears;
Distress likes dumps when time is kept with tears. ”

“ A grief, that must all its delights outwaigh:
Let me correct my wish, your griefs forbeare;
Your numerous joys I might have added here.
Yet may you have your all sum'd up in one,
And find the highest is to covet none. ”

“ She was silent a while, and then she said: Meanwhile of thy coming, and I see thee not at all for many days, how will it be with my grief then? Quoth he: More than enough of grief no soul may bear; for either death comes, or else some dullness of the pain, and then by little and little the pain weareth. Then she said: And how would it be if thou come not back and I see thee never again, or if when thou come back thou find me not, for that I be either dead or gone away out of thy reach? ”

“ To ask her grief, to soothe her wild despair;
She beat her breast more wildly than before,
With greater floods her weeping eyes ran o'er—
When friends are nigh the spirit finds relief
In the full gushing torrent of its grief. ”

“ Thou Refuge of my weary soul,
⁠On Thee, when sorrows rise,
On Thee, when waves of trouble roll,
⁠My fainting hope relies.
To Thee I tell each rising grief,
⁠For Thou alone canst heal;
Thy word can bring a sure relief
⁠For every pain I feel. ”

“ I heard of murder and death, of sickness and sorrow, anguish and grief, and wherever I looked the hollow eyes of dying men met my own with such trusting, pleading regard, such far-away yearning looks, that it seemed to me if but one sob was uttered my heart would break. ”

“ My infant-sufferer found relief;
And, in the pilfer'd treasure pleased,
Smiled on my guilt, and hush'd my grief.
But I have griefs of other kind,
Troubles and sorrows more severe;
Give me to ease my tortured mind,
30 Lend to my woes a patient ear;
And let me—if I may not find
A friend to help—find one to hear.
Yet nameless let me plead—my name
Would only wake the cry of scorn;
A child of sin, conceived in shame,
Brought forth in wo, to misery born. ”

“ The gossip, the wonderment, the show of grief that is merely excitement, and, still more, the grief that is real, and shrinks from showing itself—who would not wish to escape sight and sound of them? We may well believe that one so beloved and honored was followed to her last home by the tears and blessings of a crowd, and that one so bereaved was the object of an immense sympathy and affection. ”

“ This anguish, though deep, must in silence be borne,
Abroad, home afflictions should not be made known.
Beware when ’tis said, Oh! how happy you are,
Not even to hint there’s a skeleton there,
The sight of which fills with deep anguish the heart,
Oh! ’tis nought to see loved ones and kindred depart.
When the grave has enclosed them, the grief wears away;
But oh! living griefs on the stoutest hearts prey;
Though you smile and seem joyful, ’tis but to conceal
The depth of the misery you inwardly feel. ”

“ 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. ”