Absence - That Common Cure Of Love.

Shelley Is Truth Itself And Honour Itself Notwithstanding His Out-of-the-way Notions About Religion.

And Doubt And Discord Step 'twixt Thine And Thee.

It Is Singular How Soon We Lose The Impression Of What Ceases To Be Constantly Before Us. A Year Impairs, A Luster Obliterates. There Is Little Distinct Left Without An Effort Of Memory, Then Indeed The Lights Are Rekindled For A Moment - But Who Can Be Sure That The Imagination Is Not The Torch-bearer?

All Tragedies Are Finished By A Death, All Comedies Are Ended By A Marriage.

A Change Came O'er The Spirit Of My Dream.