Lord Rameses Of Egypt Sighed Because A Summer Evening Passed; And Little Ariadne Cried That Summer Fancy Fell At Last To Dust; And Young Verona Died When Beauty'S Hour Was Overcast. Theirs Was The Bitterness We Know Because The Clouds Of Hawthorn Keep So Short A State, And Kisses Go To Tombs Unfathomably Deep, While Rameses And Romeo And Little Ariadne Sleep.