He that lacks time to mourn, lacks time to mend. Eternity mourns that. 'T is an ill cure For life's worst ills, to have no time to feel them. Where sorrow 's held intrusive and turned out, There wisdom will not enter, nor true power, Nor aught that dignifies humanity.
Source: Philip Van Artevelde. Part i. Act i. Sc. 5.
Contributed by: Zaady