O who will give me tears? Come, all ye springs,Dwell in my head and eyes; come, cloudsand rain;My grief hath need of all the watery thingsThat nature hath produced: let every veinSuck up a river to supply mine eyes,My weary weeping eyes, too dry for me,Unless they get new conduits, new supplies,To bear them out, and with my state agree.

-George Herbert

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