Ah! gay the day with shine of sun,
and bright the breeze, and blithe the throng
Met on the River-bank to play,
when I was young, when I was young:
Such general joy could never fade;
and yet the chilling whisper came
One face had paled, one form had failed;
had fled the bank, had swum the stream;
Still revellers danced, and sang, and trod
the hither bank of Time’s deep tide,
Still one by one they left and fared
to the far misty thither side;
And now the last hath slipt away
yon drear Death-desert to explore,
And now one Pilgrim worn and lorn
still lingers on the lonely shore.
6.13.2010
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