They hope to see you, though, before you leave.
A month or two they stay there, I believe.'
"How vain is Hope's, how frail is Pleasure's charm!
Anticipation well may boast the palm;
While Happiness, like spectre in disguise,
Enchants, and then for ever from us flies.
"Thus was the dream of months,—yea years, destroyed,
And nought was left me but a restless void,
To furnish which I studied ev'ry cause
Of mortal Pain, and Chemistry's fixed laws;