有人写道，“朋友还在”，“失去对人类来说是很平常的事”——司空见惯的事是司空见惯的，空空的谷壳本是用来当粮食的。失去是常见的，这并不会使我的痛苦减少，反而会增加。太常见了!从没有早晨过到黄昏，但有些心已经碎了。啊，父亲，无论你身在何处，你现在恳求你的英勇的儿子，一枪，你的药还没喝完一半，你的生命就已经逝去了。啊，母亲，祈祷上帝拯救你的水手吧——当你低下头的时候，他那沉重的吊床裹尸布掉进了他那巨大而漂泊的坟墓里。你们并不比我更清楚，我是在那最后时刻竭力取悦他的。他沉思着我要说的一切，写了些什么，想了些什么;仍然期待着他的归来;在路上遇见他时，总是满怀希望地想:“今天在这里”，或者“他明天会来”。 O somewhere, meek, unconscious dove, That sitteth ranging golden hair; And glad to find thyself so fair, Poor child, that waiteth for thy love! For now her father's chimney glows In expectation of a guest; And thinking "this will please him best," She takes a riband or a rose; For he will see them on to-night; And with the thought her colour burns; And, having left the glass, she turns Once more to set a ringlet right; And, even when she turn'd, the curse Had fallen, and her future Lord Was drown'd in passing thro' the ford, Or kill'd in falling from his horse. O what to her shall be the end? And what to me remains of good? To her, perpetual maidenhood, And unto me no second friend.