Lest joy no more my guest should be,
And peace, that calms with tender touch,
No more should come to visit me,
Who need their presence here so much.
Some day! Nay, do I not know well
This life bears little in its hand
That we should lie as in a spell
Beneath its strong and cruel band.
At best, 'tis but a span dealt out
To each; as grains of sand may seem