Oft in the tranquil hour of night,
When stars illume the sky,
I gaze upon each orb read more

Oft in the tranquil hour of night,
When stars illume the sky,
I gaze upon each orb of light,
And wish that thou wert by.

The heart may think it knows better: the senses know that absence blots people out. We have really no absent read more

The heart may think it knows better: the senses know that absence blots people out. We have really no absent friends.

The absent are never without fault. Nor the present without excuse.

The absent are never without fault. Nor the present without excuse.

The absent are always in the wrong.

The absent are always in the wrong.

'Presents,' I often say, 'endear absents.'

'Presents,' I often say, 'endear absents.'

Thou art gone from my gaze like a beautiful dream.
And I seek then in vain by the meadow read more

Thou art gone from my gaze like a beautiful dream.
And I seek then in vain by the meadow and stream.

It takes time for the absent to assume their true shape in our thoughts. After death they take on a read more

It takes time for the absent to assume their true shape in our thoughts. After death they take on a firmer outline and then cease to change.

For I verily, absent in body, but present in spirit, have judged
already, as though I were present, concerning read more

For I verily, absent in body, but present in spirit, have judged
already, as though I were present, concerning him that hath so
done this deed, . . .

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.