Impartial measures grief for men and years;

One age inglorious slumbers on and swounds;

One moistens deathless leaves with blood and tears:

All drink, and die, but oh! how deep a draught,

E’er separate life’s a blessing, must be quafft.

{61}

{61}

LXI

The rivulets, the earth, the skies, the motion

Whose substance varies to a higher change,

The clouds, the woods, the mountains, and the ocean

Whose endless blue defies the fancy’s range,

The sun, and the calm host that guide the night

Throughout the seasons of the changeful year,

The warmth, the snow, the music, and the bright

Foliage that quivers to the songsters’ cheer;

And the swift thought that wings its measureless way

(Though clogg’d with self, it feels but how it fails,)

Just to the confines of eternal day,

In outer orbit whirl’d it pines, and sails;

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