And sometimes, as it were 'twixt sleep and waking
I hear him say, "Asander, oh, my son!
Shall I not see thee more?"
Asan.
Oh, my dear father!
And dost thou love me thus, who have forgot thee
These two long years? Belovèd, lonely life!
Belovèd failing eyes! Lysimachus,
I must go hence, and yet my honour binds me.