To this sad shrine, whoeer thou art! draw near, Here lies the friend most lovd, the son most dear; Who neer knew joy but friendship might divide, Or gave his father grief but when he died. Pope.Epitaph on Harcourt. Ramage.Beautiful Thoughts from the French, 378.
Tis better to be lowly born, And range with humble lives in content, Than to be perkd up in a glistening grief, And wear a golden sorrow. Shakespeare.King Henry VIII., Act II. Scene 3. (Anne Bullen to an Old Lady.)