Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Prolonged absence makes the heart forget.
Oh! where do fairies hide their heads, When snow lies on the hills, When frost has spoiled their mossy beds, And crystallized their rills?
Oh, pilot! 'tis a fearful night, There's danger on the deep.
Fear not, but trust in Providence, Wherever thou may'st be.
I'd be a butterfly; living a rover, Dying when fair things are fading away.
Friends depart, and memory takes them To her caverns, pure and deep.