Sonnet 30

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 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-bemoanèd 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.

When on occasions of sweet revery,

I summon up memories of everything past,

I think of things sought, that I never did see,

Lament what was absent, beyond what was lost.

I can fill up my eyes with renewed tears

For friends I have lost, for days beyond counting,

Romantic candles that have been out for years,

Beautiful sights beyond recounting.

I can grieve, once again, for things I gave up on,

Prayers, to this day, that have never been answered;

As if for the first time, realize something’s gone,

As though the hurt had not yet been encountered.

But if, in this way, you appear, dear friend,

All loss is restored; all sorrows end.