All knowledge hath taught me,
All sorrow hath brought me,
     Are smothered sighs
     That pleasure lies,
Like the last gleam of evening’s ray,
So far and far away, – far away.
Under the cold moist herbs
No wind the calm disturbs.
     O when and where?
     Nor here nor there.
Grass cools my face, grief heats my heart.
Will this life I swoon with never part?
—  Thomas Woolner, O When and Where