And for these words, thus woven into song,

It may be that they are a harmless wile,—[kw]

The colouring of the scenes which fleet along,[kx]

Which I would seize, in passing, to beguile

My breast, or that of others, for a while.

Fame is the thirst of youth,—but I am not[ky]

So young as to regard men's frown or smile,

As loss or guerdon of a glorious lot;—

I stood and stand alone,—remembered or forgot.