Introductory material

WEEP NO MORE, WOFUL SHEPHERDS, WEEP NO MORE, FOR LYCIDAS YOUR SORROW IS NOT DEAD, SUNK THOUGH HE BE BENEATH THE WATERY FLOOR; SO SINKS THE DAY-STAR IN THE OCEAN BED, AND YET ANON REPAIRS HIS DROOPING HEAD, AND TRICKS HIS BEAMS, AND WITH NEW-SPANGLED ORE FLAMES IN THE FOREHEAD OF THE MORNING SKY; SO LYCIDAS SUNK LOW, BUT MOUNTED HIGH, THROUGH THE DEAR MIGHT OF HIM THAT WALK'D THE WAVES, WHERE OTHER GROVES, AND OTHER STREAMS ALONG, WITH NECTAR PURE HIS OOZY LOCKS HE LAVES, AND HEARS THE UNEXPRESSIVE NUPTIAL SONG, IN THE BLEST KINGDOMS MEEK OF JOY AND LOVE. THERE ENTERTAIN HIM ALL THE SAINTS ABOVE, IN SOLEMN TROOPS AND SWEET SOCIETIES, THAT SING, AND SINGING IN THEIR GLORY MOVE, AND WIPE THE TEARS FOR EVER FROM HIS EYES. MILTON.