Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, — Tears

"The big round tears run down his dappled face; He groans in anguish."

"What precious drops are those, Which silently each others track pursue, Bright as young diamonds in their infant dew?"

"The glorious Angel, who was keeping The gates of Light, beheld her weeping; And, as he nearer drew and listend To her sad song, a tear-drop glistend Within his eyelids, like the spray From Edens fountain, where it lies On the blue flowr, which—Bramins say— Blooms nowhere but in Paradise."

"Two aged men, that had been foes for life, Met by a grave, and wept—and in those tears They washed away the memory of their strife; Then wept again the loss of all those years."

"Why wilt thou ever scare me with thy tears, And make me tremble lest a saying learnt, In days far-off, on that dark earth, be true? The gods themselves cannot recall their gifts."

"Oh! too convincing—dangerously dear— In womans eye the unanswerable tear! That weapon of her weakness she can wield, To save, subdue—at once her spear and shield."