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