Empires dissolve and peoples disappear, song passes not away.

Thou hadst, for weary feet, the gift of rest.

We hold our hate too choice a thing, for light and careless lavishing.

The thirst to know and understand a large and liberal discontent.

In this world with starry dome,Floored with gemlike plains and seas,Shall I never feel at home,Never wholly be at ease?

Lord of the golden tongue and smiting eyes; Great out of season and untimely wise: A man whose virtue, genius, grandeur, worth, Wrought deadlier ill than ages can undo.

Empires dissolve and peoples disappear, song passes not away.