The chest of time is broken now, the years

Rush out faster and faster in a cloud.

When I was a child, the days were longer days.

I was a prince then, royal, careless, proud.

The chest was full, I thought, of unspent gold.

When I was older, I suspected much,

Said little, lifted up the lid to see, -

And time escaped I could not even touch.

My fortune had such wings I hardly know

What ways it went, and could not greatly care,

But still recall that wild uprush of wings,

Still wonder at that brightness in the air.

The chest of time is broken past all hope.

Nothing will heal the panel split in two,

Nothing rebuild the useless lid and lock.