Some may have blamed you that you took away
The verses that could move them on the day

When， the ears being deafened1， the sight of the eyes blind

With lightning， you went from me， and I could find

Nothing to make a song about but kings，

Helmets， and swords， and half-forgotten things

That were like memories of youbut now

Well out， for the world lives as long ago；

And while were in our laughing， weeping fit，

Hurl2 helmets， crowns， and swords into the pit.

But， dear， cling close to me； since you were gone，

My barren thoughts have chilled me to the bone.