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IV.

Ah, fair and fragrant his fame as flowers that close not,

That shrink not by day for heat or for cold by night,
As a thought in the heart shall increase when the heart's self knows not,
Shall endure in our ears as a sound, in our eyes as alight;
Shall wax with the years that wane and the seasons' chime,
As a white rose thornless that grows in the garden of time.

V.

The same year calls, and one goes hence with another,

And men sit sad that were glad for their sweet songs' sake;
The same year beckons, and elder with younger brother
Takes mutely the cup from his hand that we all shall take.^[1]
They pass ere the leaves be past or the snows be come;
And the birds are loud, but the lips that out-sang them dumb.

1. Sydney Dobell died August 22, 1874.