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OET of Nature, thou hast wept to
That things depart which never
Childhood and youth, friendship and love's
Have fled like sweet dreams, leaving thee to
These common woes I feel. One loss is mine
On some frail bark in winter's midnight roar :
E are as clouds that veil the mid
How restlessly they speed, and
gleam, and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly! — yet soon Night closes round, and they are lost for
Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings Give various response to each varying blast, To whose frail frame no second motion brings One mood or modulation like the last.
We rest. A dream has power to poison
We rise. One wandering thought pollutes
We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep;
Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away:
It is the same! - For, be it joy or sorrow,
Nought may endure but Mutability.
"There is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest."- Ecclesiastes.
Which the meteor beam of a starless night
Sheds on a lonely and sea-girt isle,
Ere the dawning of morn's undoubted light, Is the flame of life so fickle and wan
That flits round our steps till their strength is
O man! hold thee on in courage of soul Through the stormy shades of thy worldly
And the billows of cloud that around thee roll
Shall sleep in the light of a wondrous day, Where hell and heaven shall leave thee free To the universe of destiny.
This world is the nurse of all we know,
When all that we know, or feel, or see,
The secret things of the grave are there,
No longer will live to hear or to see
Who telleth a tale of unspeaking death?