Robert Calverley Trevelyan
Reading edition
Dirge
Gone is he now. One flower the less Is left to make For thee less lone Earth's wilderness, Where thou Must still live on. What hath been, ne'er May be again. Yet oft of old, To cheat despair, Tales false and fair In vain Of death were told. O vain belief! O'erweening dreams! Trust not fond hope, Nor think that bliss Which neither seems, Nor is, Aught else than grief.
Contents / Contents, p. 2