Seest thou not, child, her gilded hair

That once bounded to her foot’s glee, now shade right

Her cheek’s faded rose, no longer young and fair?

Knowest thou not, her eyes’ starlight dimm’d yesternight?

Wherefore should the Sun shine in the blue high?

Each ray, each beam, recalleth but a Paradise lost…

Dead for ever is the beauty and glory

Of yesterday, faded and past for ever, thou wost!

Mortal coils make this world a Dædalion red

Wherein the soul’s delight to one’s light will ne’er betray,

Nor to Solitude can two kindred spirits fled.

Where I now stand, as I choose, leave or stay:

 Or fly sublime to the Star’s silver throne,

 Or sadly sink Lethe-wards after they mourn.