To have lived from the sensuous eye
Whose sight reflects all the seen that's not,
Enchanted by gates of which thy heart abides
Life's howling western winds -- stop not!
Foreign familiar faces that once awoke
Stirred inner paths embarked upon
Before, yet the same on looking road,
Built on memories so dearly held to bone --
Oh Time! Thou careless roaming tyrant,
Puppet master, up pulling Night from Day
My fountain of youth I see retiring!
Past I's thou mouldest and hath Shaped.