1

When sunlight faileth,

& day’s glow is gone;

When chill mist traileth

Where warm splendour shone;

When summer’s pleasure

Dieth,—dieth too

The transient treasure

That with life up-grew

& none may herit,

Where then wilt thou turn,

O vagrant spirit,

That no home didst earn;

When none replieth

Of thy friends so true,

When sweet Joy crieth

‘Adieu, love, adieu!’