This empty street, this sky to blandness scoured, br This air, a little indistinct with autumn br Like a reflection, constitute the present -- br A time traditionally soured, br A time unrecommended by event. br br But equally they make up something else: br This is the furthest future childhood saw br Between long houses, under travelling skies, br Heard in contending bells -- br An air lambent with adult enterprise, br br And on another day will be the past, br A valley cropped by fat neglected chances br That we insensately forbore to fleece. br On this we blame our last br Threadbare perspectives, seasonal decrease.