Do we indeed desire the dead Should still be near us at our side ? Is there no baseness we would hide ? No inner vileness that we dread ? How many a father have I seen A sober man, among his boys Whose youth was full of foolish noise.

Ah, Christ, that it were possible, For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be.

And was the day of my delight As pure and perfect as I say?

For it was in the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid.

So sad, so fresh the days that are no more.

Blind and naked ignorance delivers brawling judgments, unashamed, on all things all day long

And statesmen at her council met Who knew the seasons, when to take Occasion by the hand, and make The bounds of freedom wider yet.