[No title]
... Alone in crowds to wander on, -And feel that all the charm is gone Which voices dear and eyes beloved Shed round us once, where'er we rov'd— This—this the doom must be Of all who've lov'd, and liv'd to see The few bright things, they thought would stay For ever near them, die away. Tho' fairer forms around us throng, Their smiles to others all belong, And want that light which dwells alone ...