What shall I do with all the days and hours
That must be counted ere I see thy face?
read more

What shall I do with all the days and hours
That must be counted ere I see thy face?
How shall I charm the interval that lowers
Between this time and that sweet time of grace?

Cassius and Brutus were the more distinguished for that very
circumstance that their portraits were absent.
[Lat., Praefulgebant read more

Cassius and Brutus were the more distinguished for that very
circumstance that their portraits were absent.
[Lat., Praefulgebant Cassius atque Brutus eo ipso, quod effigies
eorum non videbantur.]

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, . . .

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.

When a man is out of sight, it is not too long before he is out of mind.

When a man is out of sight, it is not too long before he is out of mind.

For with G.D., to be absent from the body is sometimes (not to
speak it profanely) to be present read more

For with G.D., to be absent from the body is sometimes (not to
speak it profanely) to be present with the Lord.

How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What read more

How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December's bareness everywhere!

For there's nae luck about the house;
There's nae luck at aw;
There's little pleasure in the read more

For there's nae luck about the house;
There's nae luck at aw;
There's little pleasure in the house
When our gudeman's awa.
- William Julius Mickle,

With what a deep devotedness of woe
I wept thy absence--o'er and o'er again
Thinking of thee, read more

With what a deep devotedness of woe
I wept thy absence--o'er and o'er again
Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain,
And memory, like a drop that, night and day,
Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away!