And then I think of old George Pollexfen,

In muscular youth well known to Mayo men

For horsemanship at meets or at race-courses,

That could have shown how purebred horses

And solid men, for all their passion, live

But as the outrageous stars incline

By opposition, square and trine;

Having grown sluggish and contemplative.

6

They were my close companions many a year,

A portion of my mind and life, as it were,

And now their breathless faces seem to look

[8]

Out of some old picture-book;

I am accustomed to their lack of breath,

But not that my dear friend's dear son,

Our Sidney and our perfect man,

Could share in that discourtesy of death.

7

For all things the delighted eye now sees

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