St. Gregory struggles to find words for overlapping sorrows: a recent calamity and memories of an older earthquake that devastated a neighboring city. The present loss-a beloved young royal compared to a blossom or dove, cut off before full flowering-provokes overwhelming grief that makes any consolation difficult. The crowd's mourning fills temple and streets; gold and light seem dim amid tears. The communal lament is so profound that even music turns to sorrowful hymns, and grief becomes the only solace for the bereaved.
