“And they, my comrades, waking even as I,
Have they, too, seen the change and crept away
To weep, untroubled by the laughing sky,
Far in the utmost shadow? Stay, oh, stay!
O brothers mine, here’s one who weeps with you
The sunny glade, the dancing in the dew,
The pipes of yesterday!”
So went I calling, calling down the glade:
“Oh, harken, brothers, harken, one and all!”
Mad Echo jeered me from the hemlock shade,