My sorrows are overwhelming, but my virtue is left to me. [Fr., Mes malheurs sont combles, mais ma vertu me reste.]

Our days and nights Have sorrows woven with delights.

When sparrows build and the leaves break forth My old sorrow wakes and cries.

When sparrows build and the leaves break forth My old sorrow wakes and cries.

There is a joy in sorrow which none but a mourner can know.

Sorrows gather around great souls as storms do around mountains; but, like them, they break the storm and purify the air of the plain beneath them.