And ears that caught the coming melodies,

As wave on wave of revellers swept abroad;

Wreathed with vine-leaves, shouting, trampling onwards,

With toss'd timbrel and loud tambourine.

Alas! the disenchanting years have roll'd

On hearts and minds becoming cold:

Mirth is gone from us; and the world is old.

O bright new-comer, fill'd with thoughts of joy,

Joy to be thine amid these pleasant plains,

Know'st thou not, child, what surely coming pains

Await thee, for that eager heart's annoy?

Misunderstanding, disappointment, tears,

Wrong'd love, spoil'd hope, mistrust and ageing fears,

Eternal longing for one perfect friend,

And unavailing wishes without end?

Thou proud and pure of spirit, how must thou bear

To have thine infinite hates and loves confined,

School'd, and despised? How keep unquench'd and free

'Mid others' commerce and economy

[8]

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