Her images in their beauty
are bitterness to her lord now
where in the emptiness of eyes
all passion has faded.
Shining in dreams the sorrowful
memories pass; they bring him
vain delight only.
It is vain, to dream and to see splendors,
and the image slipping from the arms' embrace
escapes, not to return again,
on wings drifting down the ways of sleep.
-- Aeschylus, Agamemnon