Alone in crowds to wander on, <br />And feel that all the charm is gone <br />Which voices dear and eyes beloved <br />Shed round us once, where'er we roved -- <br />This, this the doom must be <br />Of all who've loved, and loved to see <br />The few bright things they thought would stay <br />For ever near them, die away. <br /> <br />Though fairer forms around us throng, <br />Their smiles to others all belong, <br />And want that charm which dwells alone <br />Round those the fond heart calls its own, <br />Where, where the sunny brow? <br />The long-known voice -- where are they now? <br />Thus ask I still, nor ask in vain, <br />The silence answers all too plain. <br /> <br />Oh, what is Fancy's magic worth, <br />If all her art cannot call forth <br />One bliss like those we felt of old <br />From lips now mute, and eyes now cold? <br />No, no -- her spell in vain -- <br />As soon could she bring back again <br />Those eyes themselves from out the grave, <br />As wake again one bliss they gave.<br /><br />Thomas Moore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/alone-in-crowds-to-wander-on/
