I always knew at last this time would come
When lost is that from which my love derives.
No longer shall I hear the horn and drum
Which waving hand to quickest tempo drives.
My heart as well would beat in Presto time,
My countenance concealing this from view
For never should the public hear the chime
Of thrill whithin my chest at heaven's cue
But now, my years elapsed, I too am deaf
To that which I've heard ring so clear and bright.
Of exultation I am now bereft.
From autumn dreams I carefully alight.
Though small the portion of my life you took,
So often on you shall I fondly look.