Woe betide you if it happens again!
They want full measure of all your pleasure, But they do not need your woe.
I went to his house to offer my consolations, and found him in the depths of woe.
"This prophecy struck the heart of my father with such woe, that he never got over it, but that did not prevent him from attending carefully to my education till I attained, a short time ago, my fifteenth birthday.
Mogens Jallberg Many forms of Government have been tried, and will be tried in this world of sin and woe.
Chesterton (1874 - 1936) Woe be to him that reads but one book.
The Lion and the Bear saw him, but not being able to get up, said: "Woe betide us, that we should have fought and belabored ourselves only to serve the turn of a Fox!
He greatly lamented his fate, saying: "Woe is me, that I, who can wage war successfully with the hugest beasts, should perish myself from this spider.
When too late he thus reproached himself: "Woe is me!
"This morning everything attacks my head, " said he, and angrily sat down on his grandfather's chair, but he quickly started up again and cried, "Woe is me, " for the needle had pricked him still worse than the pin, and not in the head.
The sisters twain so false, they wrought the children woe, there in the waters deep where the fishermen come and go.
There is want and woe, for it is the night of anguish.
"Woe is me," she said; "was the germ of sin really in my heart?
There dwell in the glass, first, health, and then pleasure, then the most complete sensual delight; and misfortune and the bitterest woe dwell in the glass also.
Now she heard the following words sadly sung,— "Life is a shadow that flits away In a night of darkness and woe.
But she saw that the life of the other was full of care and poverty, misery and woe.
The little people who now play on that spot know nothing of the old tale, else would they fancy they heard a child crying deep below the earth, and the dewdrops on each blade of grass would be to them tears of woe.
From the deep wells, and perhaps from the prisons by the Bridge of Sighs, rise the accents of woe, as at the time when the tambourine was heard in the gay gondolas, and the golden ring was cast from the Bucentaur to Adria, the queen of the seas.
A keen wind from the desert would howl around you; cold rain fall on your head, and sorrow and woe be your future lot.
To thee I dedicate these lines of woe; Wilt thou not understand the mournful tale?
