"Whom the gods love die young," was said of yore,[235]And many deaths do they escape by this:

The death of friends, and that which slays even more—

The death of Friendship, Love, Youth, all that is,

Except mere breath; and since the silent shore

Awaits at last even those who longest miss

The old Archer's shafts, perhaps the early grave[236]Which men weep over may be meant to save.