Go, words of wit, so gay, so light,
That still were meant express
To soothe the smart of fancied slight
By fancies of success.
Go, broodings vain o’er fancied wrong;
Go, love-dreams vainer still;
And scorn that’s not, but would be, strong;
And Pride without a Will.
Go, foolish thoughts, and find your way
Where myriads went before,