Thine eye is sunken, furrow’d is thy face,
And downward look’st thou - so we run our race;
And happier they whose race is nearly run,
Their troubles over, and their duties done.”
“True, lady, true - we are not girl and boy,
But time has left us something to enjoy.”
“What! hast thou learn’d my fortune? - yes, I live
To feel how poor the comforts wealth can give:
Thou too perhaps art wealthy; but our fate
Still mocks our wishes, wealth is come too late.”