• When i consider Life and its few years—
    A wisp of fog betwixt us and the sun;
    A call to battle, and the battle done
    Ere the last echo dies within our ears;
    A rose choked in the grass; an hour of fears;
    The gusts that past a darkening shore do beat;
    The burst of music down an unlistening street—
    I wonder at the idleness of tears.
    ...