THE LAST OF THINGS

Weep for the last of things,

For the farewell that they give

As if with a glance alone

To the things that remain and live.

Weep for the noble minds

That have past like froth away;

Weep for the bodies fair

Now less than dust or day.

Weep for the smallest trifles

Of our life, that is made of them;

Weep for each unaccomplished,

Each dream known at last a dream.

Weep for nations and kingdoms

That are dreams within the past,

For creeds and for religions,

For idols dim down‑cast.

Though their glory were a vile one

And a blessing their decay,

Yet they are things that have been,

Have been and gone away.

Weep for all joys departed,

For many a departed pain:

The heart one day shall desire

That they could come back again.

Weep for all things that are gone

And for those that are not past,

For the heart that sees them knows

That they also shall not last.

To all that passes pertaineth

A shred of our sympathy,

A tear for all things departed,

For departing things a sigh.