As, undismay’d amidst the tears of all,
He folds his mantle, regally to fall!
—Hush, fond enthusiast! Still, obscure, and lone,
Yet not less terrible because unknown,
Is the last hour of thousands: they retire
From life’s throng’d path, unnoticed to expire.
As the light leaf, whose fall to ruin bears
Some trembling insect’s little world of cares,
Descends in silence—while around waves on
The mighty forest, reckless what is gone!