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That breaks no more to spring-time. Darling Youth
So little lasting, and so lightly lost
And all too late lamented. Brief, so brief,
A Childhood seeking, and a Youth that finds,
Then Age that still remembers, and regrets.
Theonöe holds for direst tragedy
That Chrestos stands where late Apollo stood
But what the pathos of a passing God,
Since Gods have pass'd, and Gods may come again
Match'd with the tragedy intolerable
Of Woman's fading beauty and of Youth
That passes un-returning.
Lysis:
None may probe
The pitiful puzzle of our day that hastes
To ambush'd Death who lours and lies in wait,
In vain we strive the problem to forget
