The Funeral of Youth: Threnody

    There came to his grave-side，

    In decent mourning， from the country's ends，

    Those scatter'd friends

    Who had lived the boon¹ companions of his prime，

    And laughed with him and sung with him and wasted，

    In feast and wine and many-crown'd carouse²，

    The days and nights and dawnings of the time

    When youth kept open house，

    Nor left untasted

    Aught of his high emprise and ventures dear，

    No quest of his unshar'd ——

    All these， with loitering feet and sad head bar'd，

    Followed their old friend's bier.

    Folly⁴ went first，

    With muffled⁵ bells and coxcomb⁶ still revers'd；

    And after trod the bearers， hat in hand ——

    Laughter， most hoarse⁷， and Captain Pride with tanned

    And martial⁸ face all grim， and fussy⁹ Joy，

    Who had to catch a train， and Lust¹⁰， poor， snivelling boy；

    These bore the dear departed.

    Behind them， broken-hearted，

    Came Grief， so noisy a widow， that all said，

    "Had he but wed³

    Her elder sister Sorrow， in her stead！"

    And by her， trying to soothe¹¹ her all the time，

    The fatherless children， Colour， Tune¹²， and Rhyme

    （The sweet lad Rhyme）， ran all-uncomprehending.

    Then， at the way's sad ending，

    Round the raw grave they stay'd. Old Wisdom read，

    In mumbling¹³ tone， the Service for the Dead.

    There stood Romance，

    The furrowing¹⁴ tears had mark'd her rouged¹⁵ cheek；

    Poor old Conceit¹⁶， his wonder unassuaged；

    Dead Innocency's daughter， Ignorance；

    And shabby， ill-dress'd Generosity¹⁷；

    And Argument， too full of woe¹⁸ to speak；

    Passion， grown portly， something middle-aged¹⁹；

    And Friendship —— not a minute older， she；

    Impatience²⁰， ever taking out his watch；

    Faith， who was deaf， and had to lean， to catch

    Old Wisdom's endless drone.

    Beauty was there，

    Pale in her black； dry-eyed； she stood alone.

    Poor maz'd Imagination； Fancy wild；

    Ardour， the sunlight on his greying hair；

    Contentment， who had known Youth as a child

    And never seen him since. And Spring came too，

    Dancing over the tombs， and brought him flowers ——

    She did not stay for long.

    And Truth， and Grace， and all the merry crew，

    The laughing Winds and Rivers， and lithe²¹ Hours；

    And Hope， the dewy- eyed； and sorrowing Song； ——

    Yes， with much woe and mourning general，

    At dead Youth's funeral，

    Even these were met once more together， all，

    Who erst the fair and living Youth did know；

    All， except only Love. Love had died long ago.