Have not all past human beings parted, And must not all the present, one day part?

And Doubt and Discord step 'twixt thine and thee.

Sorrow preys upon Its solitude, and nothing more diverts it From its sad visions of the other world Than calling it at moments back to this. The busy have no time for tears.

Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth! Immortal, though no more! though fallen, great!

I stood among them, but not of them: in a shroud of thoughts which were not their thoughts.

Ada! sole daughter of my house and heart.

Who then will explain the explanation?