Sessions Poem by Nero CaroZiv

Some nights devoted to the sessions of the mind and sweet silent thought
I recall, I summon up remembrance of things long past,
I sigh, the lack of many things I craved, and sought,
And so these sessions go thru with me like a friend, the whole night they last

And with old woes and miss happening new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye, the past memories so used in my mind to flow,
For precious days of youth hid in death's dateless night,
And I weep afresh on unmaterilized loves in days of youth long since canceled woe,


And mourn the happy hours slipped; the expense of many a vanished wondrous sight:
Then can I grieve at childhood foregone in chide and rebuke shaken
And heavily from woe to woe tell over glory of haze in summer night
The sad account of fore-bemoanèd moan by a ghost taken


On aggravations which I newly pay and repay as if not paid before.
But like a lithe reeds by a river bank upon these atrocities I do not break but bend
And by this strength all losses are restored and sorrows end.


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