A fugitive glance
Of the past enchants
The inquisitive mind;
But the dark flows over
And shadows cover
The dusty screeds,
The heroic deeds,
Till the eyes are blind
And the thoughts go out
In a mist of doubt.
"you old, old ages of gold,
Flaming forth
Light from the north,
Hell is on earth;
Out of the black
Where the years mingle,
Give us a single
Glimpse back."