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? E657o1TcNaKQRJ006wXSeB9cIj4qOU6MVNd3cf7iFfXMQxDnGKLSC8GAYbTmqq8d