E’en Love never stayed to condole him,
But fled when young Hope lost her bloom;
E’en Somnus no more can control him—
Death’s darkness before him doth loom,
And pale death must soon be his doom;
And they’ll bury him deep in Hope’s tomb.
And fair Hebe no more can return,
Until the death of life is done,
Until the race of life is run,
And the future vanquish’d, yet won,