And doth not a meeting like this make amends
  For all the long years I ’ve been wand’ring away—
To see thus around me my youth’s early friends,
  As smiling and kind as in that happy day?
Though haply o’er some of your brows, as o’er mine,
  The snow-fall of Time may be stealing—what then?
Like Alps in the sunset, thus lighted by wine,...