Moan, moan, ye dying gales!
The saddest of your tales
  Is not so sad as life;
Nor have you e’er began
A theme so wild as man,
  Or with such sorrow rife.

Fall, fall, thou withered leaf!
Autumn sears not like grief,
  Nor kills such lovely flowers;
More terrible the storm,
More mournful the deform,
  When...