With Sombre Mien, The Evening Gray Comes Nagging At The Heels Of Day, And Driven Faster And Still Faster Before The Dusky-Mantled Master, The Light Fades From Her Fearful Eyes, She Hastens, Stumbles, Falls, And Dies. Beside Me Amaryllis Weeps; The Swelling Tears Obscure The Deeps Of Her Dark Eyes, As, Mistily, The Rushing Rain Conceals The Sea. Here, Lay My Tuneless Reed Away,-- I Have No Heart To Tempt A Lay. I Scent The Perfume Of The Rose Which By My Crystal Fountain Grows. In This Sad Time, Are Roses Blowing? And Thou, My Fountain, Art Thou Flowing, While I Who Watched Thy Waters Spring Am All Too Sad To Smile Or Sing? Nay, Give Me Back My Pipe Again, It Yet Shall Breathe This Single Strain: Farewell To Arcady!