Answer is mute, I hear no voice but mine.
TO THE SAME.
Rarer and dearer seen through smiles or tears,
Each day thy well-remembered face appears,
Beaming through all the clouds and mists of years.
Enfolding thee in dreams, my yearning kisses
Cling to that face till all our perished blisses
Come back like phantoms dear that re-awaken,
And haste to greet their loved ones long forsaken.