 | Blackberries |  |
46
[Where is the wise and just man? where]
Where is the wise and just man? whereThat earthly maiden, heavenly fair?
Life slips and passes: where are these?
Friend?—Loved One?—I am ill at ease.
Shall I give up my hope? declare
Unmeaning promises they were
That fed my youth, fine dreams of night,
And lofty thoughts of clear daylight?
I saw. I search and cannot find.
“Come, ere too late!”—The lonely wind
Brings echo, like the voice of Fate,
With mutter'd dull reply “Too late!”
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