Time drops in decay,

Like a candle burnt out,

And the mountains and woods Have their day, have their day;

What one in the rout

Of the fire-born mood

Has fallen away? RxYn7p6NIiURAGGkVV7s4Bnv4bUWyYW8Y6eVeFyR2vr9ebfOQKQanJEBWtwQpmUD