Originally published in The Keepsake for 1828 (Hurst, Chance, and Co.; Nov 1827).
I.
Hark! the winter wind is singing,
And the spirit of the year
Snowy flowers white is flinging
Gently far and near
(Such as lie on a maiden dead)
On the hoar December's head.
II.
Yet another winter day,
And the snowy flower is flown:
Yet another morning gray,
And the year is gone!
Gone, where all have gone before,
To the sea without a shore.
III.
Time—that endless, endless river,
Floweth still through joy and bale,
Leaving all that liv'd for ever—
All the seasons pale,
Deed, and thought, and purpose high,
Where Oblivion's people lie.
IV.
Kings, who dwelt in clouded power,
Conquerors, crown'd with murder'd foes,
Wits and sages of an hour;
Even Beauty's rose
Faded is, and lost at last;
Gone where all the world hath pass'd!