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Can hopes be again believed, When their sweetest have deceived? Can affection's chain be trusted, When its dearest links have rusted? Can life's dreams again be cherish'd, When its dearest ones have perish'd? I know Love will not endure;— Nothing now to me seems sure. —Maiden, by the thousand tears, Lava floods on my first years; By the nights, when burning pain Fed upon my heart and brain; By the wretched days now past, By the weary days to last; Be thou warn'd, for still the same Is Love, beneath whatever name.