Absence makes the heart grow fonder, Isle of Beauty, Fare thee well!

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, Isle of Beauty, Fare thee well!

'Presents,' I often say, 'endear absents.'

'Presents,' I often say, 'endear absents.'

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!

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!

Absence diminishes little passions and increases great ones, as
the wind extinguishes candles and fans a fire.
[Fr., read more

Absence diminishes little passions and increases great ones, as
the wind extinguishes candles and fans a fire.
[Fr., L'absence diminue les mediocres passions et augmente les
grandes, comme le vent eteint les bougies et allume le feu.]

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?

The absent are never without fault. Nor the present without excuse.

The absent are never without fault. Nor the present without excuse.

In the hope to meet
Shortly again, and make our absence sweet.

In the hope to meet
Shortly again, and make our absence sweet.

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,