To dream on downs of mould!

The leaf must fade, the sun must set,

The sweetest day must die;

But Death, Decay, and Woe must live,—

And so, and so must I!

Oh days to me are lengthened years,

The years like ages creep;

I’ve tossed ten million centuries

On life’s unfathomed deep!

I’ve seen the crawling sea-weed rot