The first cuckoo's melancholy cry.

After ten months' melancholy,/ Became a good and honest man.

Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase are fruits of innocence and blessedness.

This melancholy London- I sometimes imagine that the souls of the lost are compelled to walk through its streets perpetually. One feels them passing like a whiff of air.

The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year Of wailing winds and naked woods and meadows brown and sear

I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano!