have great significance from
their correspondence in tone and effect with what has been already
quoted. The poet repeatedly falls into meditations or fancies which
seem more natural to a person on the descending than on the ascending
side of life.

In Sonnets XXX. and XXXI. he says:

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 the 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-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay, as if not paid before.

* * * * *

Thy bosom is endeared with _all hearts_,
Which I _by lacking have supposed dead_;
And there reigns love, and all love's loving parts,
And all those _friends which I thought buried_.
How many _a holy and obsequious tear_
Hath dear, religious love stol'n from mine eye,
As _interest of the dead_, which now appear
But things removed that hidden in thee lie!
Thou art the grave _where buried love doth live_,
Hung with the _trophies of my lovers gone_,
Who all their parts of me to thee did give:
That due of many now is thine alone:

In Sonnet LXXI. he says:

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_
From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell:
Nay, if you read this line, remember not
The hand that writ it; for I love you so,
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,
If thinking on me then should make you woe.

In Sonnet CXXII. he says:

Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain

* * * * *

Beyond all date, even to eternity:
Or, at the least, _so long as brain and heart_
Have faculty by nature to subsist;
Till each to razed oblivion yield his part.

In Sonnet CXLVI. he says:

Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth,
. . . these rebel powers that thee array,
Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
Why so large cost, having _so short_ a lease,
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
Shall worms, inheri