I.
Far, far away, O ye
Halcyons of Memory,
Seek some far calmer nest
Than this abandoned breast!
No news of your false spring
To my heart-s winter bring,
Once having gone, in vain
Ye come again.

II.
Vultures, who build your bowers
High in the Future-s towers,
Withered hopes on hopes are spread!
Dying joys, choked by the dead,
Will serve your beaks for prey
Many a day.