But genuine Love must prize the apst,
And Memory wakes the thoughts that bless.
They rose the first - they sec the last;
And all that Memory loves the most
VAs once our only Hope to be,
And all that Hope adored and lost
I -lath melted into Memory.-
Alas! It is delusion all:
The future cheats us from afar,
Nor can we be what we recall,
Nor dare to think on what we are.
Lord Byron
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