Thou burden of all songs the earth hath sung, br Thou retrospect in Time's reverted eyes, br Thou metaphor of everything that dies, br That dies ill-starred, or dies beloved and young br And therefore blest and wise,- br O be less beautiful, or be less brief, br Thou tragic splendour, strange, and full of fear! br In vain her pageant shall the Summer rear? br At thy mute signal, leaf by golden leaf, br Crumbles the gorgeous year. br br Ah, ghostly as remembered mirth, the tale br Of Summer's bloom, the legend of the Spring! br And thou, too, flutterest an impatient wing, br Thou presence yet more fugitive and frail, br Thou most unbodied thing, br Whose very being is thy going hence, br And passage and departure all thy theme; br Whose life doth still a splendid dying seem, br And thou at height of thy magnificence br A figment and a dream. br br Stilled is the virgin rapture that was June, br And cold is August's panting heart of fire; br And in the storm-dismantled forest-choir br For thine own elegy thy winds attune br Their wild and wizard lyre: br And poignant grows the charm of thy decay, br The pathos of thy beauty, and the sting, br Thou parable of greatness vanishing! br For me, thy woods of gold and skies of grey br With speech fantastic ring.