Bereavement

(Childe Harold, Canto ii. Stanza 98.)

WHAT is the worst of woes that wait on age?

What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow?

To view each loved on blotted from life’s page,

And be alone on earth, as I am now.

Before the Chastener humbly let me bow,

O’er hearts divided and o’er hopes destroy’d:

Roll on, vain days! full reckless may ye flow,

Since Time hath reft whate’er my soul enjoy’d,

And with the ills of Eld mine earlier years alloy’d.