Shame leaves us by degrees. - Samuel Daniel

Thou may’st repent that thou hast scorn’d my tears,
When Winter snows upon thy sable hairs.

O blessed letters that combine in one
All ages past, and make one live with all,
By you we do confer with who are gone,
And the dead living unto counsel call:
By you th'unborn shall have communion
Of what we feel, and what doth us befall.

When better choices are not to be had,
We needs must take the seeming best of bad.