* * *

'Tis time, my friend, 'tis time! The heart to peace aspires: Day follows day; the rolling stream of hours Crumbles the banks of being, and you and I Had thought to live, and yet, behold, we die.

Though joy for ever flees, peace stays and concentration. For long now has it been my consolation, Hard-driven slave, to plan rebellious flight To some far sanctuary of work and chaste delight.