Poet of Nature, thou hast wept to know



That things depart which never may return:



Childhood and youth, friendship and love’s first glow,



Have fled like sweet dreams, leaving thee to mourn.



These common woes I feel. One loss is mine



Which thou too feel’st, yet I alone deplore.



Thou wert as a lone star, whose light did shine



On some frail bark in winter’s midnight roar:



Thou hast like to a rock-built refuge stood



Above the blind and battling multitude:



In honoured poverty thy voice did weave



Songs consecrate to truth and liberty,—



Deserting these, thou leavest me to grieve,



Thus having been, that thou shouldst cease to be.













