Lived in days in vain lamented,—
Had lived to-day,
But was wayward—or demented,—
Weak, or worse,—who dares to say?
For his thought was streak’d with fancies,
To all simple truth untrue;
Bizarre, as the hues of pansies,—
The dark shades he knew;
And he wander’d from this Aidenn:
Wander’d, and was lost, alas!