The poem
Love is no more. It died as the mind dies: the pure desire Relinquishing the blissful form it wore, The ample joy and clarity expire.
Regret is vain. Then do not grieve for what you would efface, The sudden failure of the past, the pain Of its unwilling change, and the disgrace.
Leave innocence, And modify your nature by the grief Which poses to the will indifference That no desire is permanent in sense.
Take leave of me. What recompense, or pity, or deceit Can cure, or what assumed serenity Conceal the mortal loss which we repeat?
The mind will change, and change shall be relief.
i think this is a wonderful poem and i wish i could wright like that!