Grief Tears His Heart, And Drives Him To And Fro In All The Raging Impotence Of Woe.

Accept these grateful tears! for thee they flow,-- For thee, that ever felt another's woe!
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xix, Line 319...
Achilles absent was Achilles still.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xxii, Line 418...
Forever honour'd, and forever mourn'd.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xxii, Line 422...
No season now for calm familiar talk.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xxii, Line 169...
Sinks my sad soul with sorrow to the grave.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xxii, Line 543...
The bitter dregs of fortune's cup to drain.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xxii, Line 85...
This, this is misery! the last, the worst That man can feel.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xxii, Line 106...
Unwept, unhonour'd, uninterr'd he lies!
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xxii, Line 484...
Who dies in youth and vigour, dies the best.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xxii, Line 100...