WAS...

The wave hath burst white upon the beach.

        Speak no more of it.

The leaf hath rotted. No more can it teach

        But a moral for joy unfit.

The day hath ended. Who speaks of its morn

        But must think of its night?

The old corpse is rotting. That it was once born

        Seems a lie to the sight.

The heart hath broken; no more can it throb

        With deep love or care.

Its voice hath vanished; no more can it sob

        In its deep despair.

Thus all things do crumble and all doth pass,

        But not always forgot:

For we feel it deep, and in the heart «was»

        Meaneth but «is nob».