Of richest Shakspeare—and the noble strains
Of master-minds drinking their inspiration
From his pure fountain—all the mighty line—
Sweeps by this distant shallow generation,
The monody of Time!
Sweet friends!
My heart henceforth must nestle in your loves,
Or be forever lost. When forgotten,
For a brief period, ’mid the worldly strife
And emptiness of things, how sinks my spirit,