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 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! 
It takes time for the absent to assume their true shape in our thoughts. After death they take on a read more
It takes time for the absent to assume their true shape in our thoughts. After death they take on a firmer outline and then cease to change.
The heart may think it knows better: the senses know that absence blots people out. We have really no absent read more
The heart may think it knows better: the senses know that absence blots people out. We have really no absent friends.
 All days are nights to see till I see thee,
 And nights bright days when dreams do show thee read more 
 All days are nights to see till I see thee,
 And nights bright days when dreams do show thee to me. 
The absent are never without fault. Nor the present without excuse.
The absent are never without fault. Nor the present without excuse.
No friend to Love like a long voyage at sea.
No friend to Love like a long voyage at sea.
Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear - not absence of fear
Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear - not absence of fear
The absent are never without fault, nor the present without excuse.
The absent are never without fault, nor the present without excuse.
 What shall I do with all the days and hours
 That must be counted ere I see thy face?
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 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?