Gregory the Dialogist

In describing loftily the sweetness of contemplation, you have renewed the groans of my fallen state, since I hear what I have lost inwardly while mounting outwardly, though undeserving, to the summit of rule. Know then that I am stricken with so great sorrow that I can scarcely speak; for the dark shadows of grief obscure the eyes of my soul. Whatever is beheld is sad, whatever is thought delightful appears to my heart lamentable. For I reflect on what a dejected height of external advancement I have ascended in falling from the lofty summit of my rest. And, being sent for my faults into the exile of employment from the face of my Lord, I say with the prophet, in the words, as it were of destroyed Jerusalem, “He who should comfort me has departed far from me.” … For I, my good man, have, as it were, lost my children, since through earthly cares I have lost works of righteousness. Therefore “call me not Naomi, that is lovely; but call me Mara, for I am full of bitterness.”