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Lord Byron

Sun of the Sleepless

Sun of the sleepless! melancholy star!

Whose tearful beam glows tremulously far!

That show’s the darkness thou canst not dispel,

How like art thou to joy remember’d well!

So gleams the past, the light of other days,

Which shines, but warms not with its powerless rays;

A nightbeam Sorrow watcheth to behold,

Distinct, but distant — clear — but, oh how cold