The day that _Youth_ had died, There came to his grave-side, In decent mourning, from the county's ends, Those scatter'd friends Who had lived the boon companions of his prime, And laughed with him and sung with him and wasted, In feast and wine and many-crown'd carouse, The days and nights and dawnings of the time When _Youth_ kept open house, Nor left untasted Aught of his high emprise and ventures dear, No quest of his unshar'd-- All these, with loitering feet and sad head bar'd, Followed their old friend's bier. _Folly_ went first, With muffled bells and coxcomb still revers'd; And after trod the bearers, hat in hand-- _Laughter_, most hoarse, and Captain _Pride_ with tanned And martial face all grim, and fussy _Joy_, Who had to catch a train, and _Lust_, poor, snivelling boy; These bore the dear departed. Behind them, broken-hearted, Came _Grief_, so noisy a widow, that all said, "Had he but wed Her elder sister _Sorrow_, in her stead!" And by her, trying to soothe her all the time, The fatherless children, _Colour_, _Tune_, and _Rhyme_ (The sweet lad _Rhyme_), ran all-uncomprehending. Then, at the way's sad ending, Round the raw grave they stay'd. Old _Wisdom_ read, In mumbling tone, the Service for the Dead. There stood _Romance_, The furrowing tears had mark'd her rougèd cheek; Poor old _Conceit_, his wonder unassuaged; Dead _Innocency's_ daughter, _Ignorance_; And shabby, ill-dress'd _Generosity_; And _Argument_, too full of woe to speak; _Passion_, grown portly, something middle-aged; And _Friendship_--not a minute older, she; _Impatience_, ever taking out his watch; _Faith_, who was deaf, and had to lean, to catch Old _Wisdom's_ endless drone. _Beauty_ was there, Pale in her black; dry-eyed; she stood alone. Poor maz'd _Imagination_; _Fancy_ wild; _Ardour_, the sunlight on his greying hair; _Contentment_, who had known _Youth_ as a child And never seen him since. And _Spring_ came too, Dancing over the tombs, and brought him flowers-- She did not stay for long. And _Truth_, and _Grace_, and all the merry crew, The laughing _Winds_ and _Rivers_, and lithe _Hours_; And _Hope_, the dewy-eyed; and sorrowing _Song_;-- Yes, with much woe and mourning general, At dead _Youth's_ funeral, Even these were met once more together, all, Who erst the fair and living _Youth_ did know; All, except only _Love_. _Love_ had died long ago. GRANTCHESTER THE OLD VICARAGE, GRANTCHESTER (_Café des Westens, Berlin, May_ 1912)