Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide;The Form remains, the Function never dies.

In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.

Beloved Vale, I said, When I shall con those many records of my childish years

O Cuckoo! shall I call thee bird,Or but a wandering voice?

Another year! - another deadly blow!/ Another mighty empire overthrown!/ And we are left, or shall be left, alone.

To every Form of being is assigned,"Thus calmly spoke the venerable Sage,"An active Principle.