No Falstaff failings have my mind impelled
To do misdeeds of sack by night or day;
But we have ever erred on virtue's side—
At least we should have done—but woe is me!
I fear in this my statement I have lied,
For ghosts, like moonlight shadows on the sea,
Crowd thick around me from the shadowy past,—
Ghosts of old memories reeling drunk with wine!
And boon companions, Lysius-like, and vast
In their proportions as the god divine.