No more we meet in yonder bowers Absence has made me prone to roving; But older, firmer hearts than ours, Have found monotony in loving.
Lord ByronStill from the fount of joy's delicious springs Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom flings.
Lord Byron'Tis solitude should teach us how to die; It hath no flatterers; vanity can give, No hollow aid; alone - man with God must strive.
Lord Byron