Low mourned the Oread round the Arcadian hills; The Naiad murmured and the Dryad moaned; The meadow-maiden left her daffodils To join the Hamadryades who groaned Over a sister newly fallen dead....
"What traveller soever wander here In quest of peace and what is best of pleasure, Let not his hope be overcast and drear Because I, Death, am here to fix the measure Of life, even in blameless Arcady....
Dry light reverberates, colour withdrawing Into a sky so white, sight cannot follow it. While in the shadows cast, rich hues, intenser Far than in light spaces, offer me gladness....
Though here fair blooms the rose and the woodbine waves on high, And oak and elm and bracken frond enrich the rolling lea, And winds as if from Arcady breathe joy as they go by,...
A gurly breeze swept from the pool The Autumn peace so blue and cool, Which all day long had dreamed thereon Of men and things aforetime gone, Their vanished joy, their ended dule:...
Despairless! Hopeless! Quietly I wait On these unpeopled tracks the happy close Of Day, whose advent rang with noise elate, Whose later stage was quick with mirthful shows...
The Love that speaks in word and kiss, That dyes the cheek and fires the eye, Through surface signs of shallow bliss That, quickly born, may quickly die; Sweet, sweet are these to man and woman;...