Nor is it wiser to weep a true occasion lost, but trim our sails, and let old bygones be.
Alfred Lord TennysonAnd o'er the hills, and far away Beyond their utmost purple rim, Beyond the night, across the day, Thro' all the world she follow'd him.
Alfred Lord TennysonHis honour rooted in dishonour stood, And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true.
Alfred Lord Tennyson