They say that hope is Happiness,
but genuine Love must prize the past
And Memory wakes the thoughts that bless;
They rose the first they set the last;
And all that Memory loves the most
was once our only Hope to be
And all that Hope adored and lost
hath melted into Memory
Alas!it is delusion all:
the future cheats us from afar,
Nor can be waht we recall,
nor dare we think on what we are.
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