His fellow-yearsmen passed, and then
In later hearts I looked for him again;
And found him—shrunk, alas! into a thin
And spectral mannikin.
IV
Lastly I ask—now old and chill—
If aught of him remain unperished still;
And find, in me alone, a feeble spark,
Dying amid the dark.
February 1899.
THE TO-BE-FORGOTTEN
I
I heard a small sad sound,
And stood awhile amid the tombs around:
“Wherefore, old friends,” said I, “are ye distrest,
Now, screened from life’s unrest?”
—“O not at being here;
But that our future second death is drear;
When, with the living, memory of us numbs,
And blank oblivion comes!