Yes, thou art gone! and round me too the night In ever-nearing circle weaves her shade. I see her veil draw soft across the day, I feel her slowly chilling breath invade The cheek grown thin, the brown hair sprent with grey; I feel her finger light Laid pausefully upon life's headlong train; - The foot less prompt to meet the morning dew, The heart less bounding at emotion new, And hope, once crush'd, less quick to spring again.

The bloom is gone, and with the bloom go I.

Hear it, O Thyrsis, still our tree is there!- Ah, vain! These English fields, this upland dim, These brambles pale with mist engarlanded, That lone, sky-pointi…

He went; his piping took a troubled sound Of storms that rage outside our happy ground; He could not wait their passing, he is dead!

The years like great black oxen tread the world, And God the herdsman goads them on behind, And I am broken by their passing feet.

Omnia fert aetas, animum quoque.

Even such is time, that takes on trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with earth and dust; Who, in the dark and silent grave, When we ha…