Stare on the bridge of the relentless River,
Or watch the mournful wave as year on year it flows,
And ask each other, with parch'd lips that writhe
Into a whisper, "When the end shall be!"
The end?—Lo, broken in Time's hand the scythe,
And round and round revolves Eternity!
ELYSIUM.
Past the despairing wail—
And the bright banquets of the Elysian Vale