All her hours were yellow sands, br Blown in foolish whorls and tassels; br Slipping warmly through her hands; br Patted into little castles. br br Shiny day on shiny day br Tumble in a rainbow clutter, br As she flipped them all away, br Sent them spinning down the gutter. br br Leave for her a red young rose, br Go your way, and save your pity; br She is happy, for she knows br That her dust is very pretty.