XCV.

XCV. Thou too art gone, thou loved and lovely one! Whom youth and youth's affections bound to me; Who did for me what none beside have done, Nor shrank from one albeit unworthy thee. What is my being? thou hast ceased to be! Nor stayed to welcome here thy wanderer home, Who mourns o'er hours which we no more shall see-- Would they had never been, or were to come! Would he had ne'er returned to find fresh cause to roam!