The sea is as a garden that the wind Biddeth break forth in lily-buds, the sky A picture with all Fairyland designed-- By day the clouds, by night the stars sweep by Nor question, nor reveal Love's horoscope. Life is a maiden with a garland crowned; Space is a palace built by hands of Hope; Time is a melody that doth resound From star to distant star, and only heard In pa**ing on its transit from afar. d**h the inevitable, is deferred To such most distant futures, that his car, Whose thundering wheels so often sound a-nigh, Is silent as his shadow pa**ing by.