If prayers
Could alter high decrees, I to that place
Would speed before thee, and be louder heard,
That on my head all might be visited...
To me committed and by me expos'd.

But rise. Let us no more contend, nor blame

Each other, blam'd enough elsewhere, but strive
In offices of love how we may light'n
Each other's burden in our share of woe,
Since this day's death denounc'd, if aught I see,
Will prove no sudden, but a slow-pac'd evil,
A long day's dying, to augment our pain...

--Milton, Paradise Lost