Just as the northern light, whose dead flame shines no more,
Tones of an age-warped harp, sounds of its shattered chords,
Events of by-gone days, the light of a lifeless star,
Feelings of one you loved, a wanderer's path so far,
A grave long since forgot, eternities' old scar,
A smold'ring fire's smoke, sounds of metallic chimes,
These are the echoes now of the dead man's childhood times.
'tis late at eve—second of May
A night in May—'tis time for love
A love lure sings the turtle-dove.
"William! William! William!"
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