We can only love what we know

Forgotten rimes, and college themes,/ Worm-eaten plans, and embryo schemes;/ A mass of heterogeneous matter./ A chaos dark, nor land nor water.

When one by one our ties are torn, and friend from friend is snatched forlorn; When man is left alone to mourn, oh! then how sweet it is to die!

When one by one our ties are torn, and friend from friend is snatched forlorn; When man is left alone to mourn, oh! then how sweet it is to die!.

The dead of midnight is the noon of thought.

We neither laugh alone, nor weep alone, why then should we pray alone?