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| Great sorrow makes sacred the sufferer. Owen Meredith. | 1 |
| He mourns the dead who lives as they desire. Young. | 2 |
| How wretched is the man who never mourned! Young. | 3 |
| Smit with exceeding sorrow unto death. Tennyson. | 4 |
| They truly mourn, that mourn without a witness. Baron. | 5 |
| | There is a tear for all that die; |
| A mourner oer the humblest grave. |
Byron. | 6 |
| I have that honorable grief lodged here which burns worse than tears drown. Shakespeare. | 7 |
| Many a smiling face hides a mourning heart; but grief alone teaches us what we are. Schiller. | 8 |
| Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead; excessive grief the enemy to the living. Shakespeare. | 9 |
| Sorrows when shared are less burdensome, though joys divided are increased. J. G. Holland. | 10 |
| To be impatient at the death of a person concerning whom it was certain he must die, is to mourn because thy friend was not born an angel. Jeremy Taylor. | 11 |
| Heavy sorrow is silent, and the deepest mourning is the most solitary. Charles Buxton. | 12 |
| The true way to mourn the dead is to take care of the living who belong to them. Burke. | 13 |
| Away! we know that tears are vain, that death neer heeds nor hears distress. Byron. | 14 |
| Of permanent mourning there is none; no cloud remains fixed. The sun will shine to-morrow. Richter. | 15 |
| Excess of grief for the deceased is madness; for it is an injury to the living, and the dead know it not. Xenophon. | 16 |
| | No longer mourn for me when I am dead, |
| Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell |
| Give warning to the world that I am fled. |
Shakespeare. | 17 |
| | Why is the hearse with scutcheons blazond round, |
| And with the nodding plume of ostrich crownd? |
| No: the dead know it not, nor profit gain; |
| It only serves to prove the living vain. |
Gay. | 18 |
| | Do not, for ever, with thy veiled lids |
| Seek for thy noble father in the dust; |
| Thou knowst tis common; all that lives must die, |
| Passing through nature to eternity. |
Shakespeare. | 19 |
| | O, very gloomy is the House of Woe, |
| Where tears are falling while the bell is knelling, |
| With all the dark solemnities which show |
| That Death is in the dwelling! |
| O, very, very dreary is the room |
| Where Love, domestic Love, no longer nestles, |
| But smitten by the common stroke of doom, |
| The corpse lies on the trestles! |
Hood. | 20 |
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| To be left alone in the wide world with scarcely a friend,this makes the sadness which, striking its pang into the minds of the young and the affectionate, teaches them too soon to watch and interpret the spirit-signs of their own hearts. Hawthorne. | 21 |
| | He that lacks time to mourn, lacks time to mend. |
| Eternity mourns that. Tis an ill cure |
| For lifes worst ills to have no time to feel them. |
Sir Henry Taylor. | 22 |
| | Let us weep in our darknessbut weep not for him! |
| Not for himwho, departing, leaves millions in tears! |
| Not for himwho has died full of honor and years! |
| Not for himwho ascended Fames ladder so high. |
| From the round at the top he has stepped to the sky. |
N. P. Willis. | 23 |
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