Till the last leaf whirls thro’ the clanging gate
Of the last sunrise. Did he learn too late?
Maybe, that one may hear the moans and cries
That ring by night, and yet be calm and wise.
And teach the women how a man can hate!
I did not think a soul could live so long,
And be so little. He remembers youth
With a wry smile of disbelief; the wrong
Was this, he squeezed the fruit so dry
So long ago; and now must live, forsooth