Thou art gone from my gaze like a beautiful dream. And I seek then in vain by the meadow and stream.

Oft in the tranquil hour of night, When stars illume the sky, I gaze upon each orb of light, And wish that thou wert by.

Tho' lost to sight, to mem'ry dear/ Thou ever wilt remain.

Thou art gone from my gaze like a beautiful dream, And I seek thee in vain by the meadow and stream

Wives in their husbands' absences grow subtler, And daughters sometimes run off with the butler.

How can you know what is missing if you’ve never met it? You must know of something’s existence before you can notice its absence.