And the days darken round me, and the years, Among new men, strange faces, other minds.

Who trusted God was love indeed And love Creation's final law Though Nature, red in tooth and claw With ravine, shrieked against his creed.

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

Nothing in Nature is unbeautiful.

Forgive! How many will say, forgive, and find a sort of absolution in the sound to hate a little longer!

Launch your vessel, And crowd your canvas, And, ere it vanishes Over the margin, After it, follow it, FollowThe Gleam.

Nor is it wiser to weep a true occasion lost, but trim our sails, and let old bygones be.