His friends would console him—the noblest and sagest
Of midges have held that a midge lives again;
In eternity, say they, the strife thou now wagest
With sorrow, shall cease; but their words were in vain!
Can eternity bring back the seconds now wasted
In hopeless desire? or restore to his breast
The belief he has lost, with the bliss he once tasted,
Embracing the midge that his being held best?
His friends would console him: life yet is before him;
Many hundred long seconds he still has to live;