Science grows and Beauty dwindles.

The greater man the greater courtesy.

Oh good gray head which all men knew!

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

For now the poet cannot die, Nor leave his music as of old, But round him ere he scarce be cold Begins the scandal and the cry.

Gone - flitted away, Taken the stars from the night and the sun From the day! Gone, and a cloud in my heart.

Half the night I waste in sighs, Half in dreams I sorrow after The delight of early skies; In a wakeful dose I sorrow For the hand, the lips, the eyes, For the meeting of the morrow, The delight of happy laughter, The delight of low replies.