"Mary Shelley's handwritten poem ""Absence"", on the death of her husband. The poem reads: Ah! he is gone — and I alone;How dark and dreary seems the time!'Tis Thus, when the glad sun is flown,Night rushes o'er the Indian clime.Is there no star to cheer this nightNo soothing twilight for the breast?Yes, Memory sheds her fairy light,Pleasing as sunset's golden west.And hope of dawn — Oh! brighter farThan clouds that in the orient burn;More welcome than the morning starIs the dear thought — he will return!"
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