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— Silas Weir Mitchell"Alas, how can we help but mourn When hero bosoms yield their breath! A century itself may bear But once the flower of such a death."
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And then alas! I let the matter reset, watching and waiting only, as we have too often done.
— J. R. R. Tolkien
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The tears into his eyes were brought, And thanks and praises seemed to run So fast out of his heart, I thought They never would have done. -I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning; Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning.
— William Wordsworth
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