VI.
I mind as if 'twere yesterday, The hour when first I stood beside The margin1 of yon rushing tide, And watched its wild waves in their play； These locks that now are thin and gray, Then clustered thick and dark as thine, And few had strength of arm like mine. Thou seest how many a furrow2 now Time's hand hath ploughed athwart my brow： Well, then it was without a line； And I had other treasures too, Of which 'tis useless now to vaunt； Friends, who were kind, and warm, and true； A heart, that danger could not daunt3； A soul, with wild dreams wildly stirred；
And hope that had not been deferred4. I cannot count how many years Have since gone by, but toil5 and tears, And the lone6 heart's deep agony, I feel have sadly altered me； Yet mourn I not the change, for those I loved or scorned, my friends or foes7, Have fallen and faded, one by one, As time's swift current hurried by, Till I, of all my kith alone, Am left to wait, and wish to die.
