Grocott & Ward, comps. Grocott’s Familiar Quotations, 6th ed. 189-?.
Sorrow
Affliction may one day smile again, and till then sit thee down, sorrow!
Shakespeare.—Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act I. Scene 1. (Constance to Biron.)
Here I and sorrow sit;
Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it.
Shakespeare.—King John, Act III. Scene 1. (Constance to Salisbury.)
Behold, and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow.
Jeremiah.—Lamentations, Chap. i. Ver. 12.
Behold a wretch whom all the gods consign
To woe! Did ever sorrows equal mine?
Pope.—The Odyssey, Book IV. Line 958.
Here let me sit in sorrow for mankind.
Goldsmith.—The Traveller, Line 102.
Down, thou climbing sorrow,
Thy element’s below.
Shakespeare.—King Lear, Act II. Scene 4. (The King to himself, after hearing the Fool’s proverbs.)
Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak
Whispers the o’er-fraught heart, and bids it break.
Shakespeare.—Macbeth, Act IV. Scene 3. (Malcolm, on hearing Rosse relate the murder of Macduff’s wife and children.)
Sorrow conceal’d, like an oven stopp’d,
Doth burn the heart to cinders.
Shakespeare.—Titus Andronicus, Act II. Scene 5. (Marcus, on seeing the mutilated Lavinia.)
Sorrow ends not when it seemeth done.
Shakespeare.—King Richard II., Act I. Scene 2. (Duchess of Gloster to Gaunt.)
New sorrow rises as the day returns,
A sister sickens or a daughter mourns.
Dr. Johnson.—Vanity of Human Wishes, Line 301. Campbell.—The Soldier’s Dream, last Line but one.
Year chases year, decay pursues decay,
Still drops some joy from withering life away;
New forms arise, and different views engage,
Superfluous lags the veteran on the stage,
Till pitying Nature signs the last release,
And bids afflicted worth retire to peace.
Dr. Johnson.—Vanity of Human Wishes, Line 305.
Social sorrow loses half its pain.
Dr. Johnson.—Prologue: Good Natured Man, 1769, Line 4.
Thus, both with lamentations fill’d the place,
Till sorrow seem’d to wear one common face.
Congreve.—Priam’s Lamentation, last Lines.
I have a silent sorrow here,
A grief I’ll ne’er impart;
It breathes no sigh, it sheds no tear,
But it consumes my heart.
This cherish’d woe, this loved despair,
My lot for ever be;
So, my soul’s lord, the pangs I bear
Be never known by thee.
Kotzebue.—The Stranger, Act IV. Scene 1; translated by R. Thompson.
A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.
Shakespeare.—Hamlet, Act I. Scene 2. (Horatio to Hamlet.)
Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune’s womb,
Is coming towards me.
Shakespeare.—King Richard II., Act II. Scene 2. (The Queen to Bushy.)
Alone and dewy, coldly pure and pale;
As weeping beauty’s cheek at sorrow’s tale!
Byron.—The Bride of Abydos, Canto II. Stanza last.