‘Fill with forgetfulness!—there are, there are
Voices whose music I have loved too well;
Eyes of deep gentleness—but they are far—
Never! oh! never, in my home to dwell!
Take their soft looks from off my yearning soul—
Fill high th’ oblivious bowl!
‘Yet pause again!—with memory wilt thou cast
The undying hope away, of memory born?
Hope of reunion, heart to heart at last;
No restless doubt between, no rankling thorn?