The sea is as a garden that the wind
Biddeth break forth in lily-buds, the sky
A picture with all Fairyland designed--
By day the clouds, by night the stars sweep by
Nor question, nor reveal Love's horoscope.
Life is a maiden with a garland crowned;
Space is a palace built by hands of Hope;
Time is a melody that doth resound
From star to distant star, and only heard
In pa**ing on its transit from afar.
d**h the inevitable, is deferred
To such most distant futures, that his car,
Whose thundering wheels so often sound a-nigh,
Is silent as his shadow pa**ing by.