Yes! they will meet the wave I gaze on now:
Mine cannot witness, even in a dream.
That happy wave repass me in its flow!
But that which keepeth us apart is not
Distance, nor depth of wave, nor space of earth.
But the distraction of a various lot,
As various as the climates of our birth.
My blood is all meridian; were it not,
I had not left my clime, nor should I be
In spite of tortures ne’er to be forgot,