"The joys that we tasted we taste not again;
Each hour has its burden, each day has its pain;
No moment in flying, but hurries us past
Some sight, sound, or feeling more dear than the last!
We leave ye behind us, sweet things of the earth."
IV.
"We leave ye behind us, and others shall come
To tread in our footsteps, from cradle to tomb;
Still gazing back fondly, with lingering eyes,
Where behind them the bright land of memory lies!