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Alas! but my dream has like sleep's visions vanish'd;   The hall and the crowd are before me again: Sternly my sweet thoughts like fairies are banish'd;   Nay, the Faith which believed in them now seems but vain.

I left the gay circle:—if I found it dreary, Were all others there, then, the thoughtless and glad? Methinks that fair cheek in its paleness look'd weary, Methinks that dark eye in its drooping was sad.

—I went to my chamber,—I sought to be lonely,— I leant by the casement to catch the sweet air; The thick tears fell blinding; and am I then only Sad, weary, although without actual care?