"It is delightful to kiss the eyelashes of the beloved--is it not? But never so delightful as when fresh tears are on them."

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Where art thou, beloved To-morrow? When young and old, and strong and weak, Rich and poor, through joy and sorrow, Thy sweet smiles we ever seek,-- In thy place--ah! well-a-day! We find the thing we fled--To-day!

— Percy Bysshe Shelley