'Tis night, when Meditation bids us feel
We once have loved, though love is at an end:
The heart, lone mourner of its zeal,
Though friendless now, will dream it had a friend.
We once have loved, though love is at an end:
The heart, lone mourner of its zeal,
Though friendless now, will dream it had a friend.
Byron - Childe Harold's Pilgrimage
