These are the Sorrows; 
and they are three in number, 
as the Graces are three, 
who dress man's life with beauty; 
the Parcæ are three, 
who weave the dark arras of man's life 
in their mysterious loom, 
always with colours sad in part, 
sometimes angry with tragic crimson and black; 
the Furies are three, 
who visit with retribution 
called from the other side of the grave 
offences that walk upon this; 
and once even the Muses were but three, 
who fit the harp, the trumpet, or the lute, 
to the great burdens of man's impassioned creations. 
These are the Sorrows, all three of whom I know.