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...out of things familiar, uudesign'd, When least we deem of such, calls up to view The spectres whom on, and more from the advice of others than my own judgment, and I seize t mourn'd, the loved, the lost — too many! — yet how few! XXV. But my soul wanders; I demand it back...

...out of things familiar, undesign'd, When least we deem of such, calls up to view The spectres whom If it is he, he is so changed, His father, rising from his grave again, Would [how few I The mourn'd, the loved, the lost — too many ! — yet XXV. But my soul wanders ; I demand...

...Which out of things familiar, undesign'd When least we deem of such, calls up to view The spectres whom no exorcism can bind, The cold — the changed — perchance the dead — anew, The mourn'd, the loved, the lost — too many ! — yet how few But my soul wanders; I demand it back To...

...Which out of things familiar, undesign'd When least we deem of such, calls up to view The spectres whom no exorcism can bind, The cold — the changed — perchance the dead — anew, The mourn'd, the loved, the lost — too many ! — yet how few ! Bat my soul wanders ; I demand it back...

...Which out of things familiar, undesign'd When least we deem of such, calls up to view The spectres whom no exorcism can bind, The cold — the changed — perchance the dead— anew, The mourn'd, the loved, the lost — too many ! — yet how fe i But my soul wanders; I demand it back...

...out of things familiar, undesign'd, When least we deem of such, calls up to v«ew The spectres whom he heart tho weight which it would fling Aside for ever : it may be a sound — A inournM, the loved, the lost — too many ! yet how few! XXV. But my soul wanders ; I demand it back...

...out of things familiar, undesign'd, When least we deem of such, calls up to view The spectres whom his progress which Lord Byron cent home to his mother, the reader will see tha [how few I The mourn 'd, the loved, the lost — too many I— yet XXV. But my soul wanders ; I demand...

...Which out of things familiar, nndesign'd When least we deem of such, calls up to view The spectres whom no exorcism can bind, The cold — the changed — perchance the dead — anew, The mourn'd, the loved, the lost — too manyI — yet how few! But my soul wanders; I demand it back To...

...out of things familiar, undesign'd, When least we deem of such, calls up to view The spectres whom no exorcism can bind, The cold — the changed — perchance the dead — anew, The mourn'd, the loved, the lost — too many ! — yet how few ! XXV. But my soul wanders ; I demand it...