LEFT BEHIND.

Undimm'd it reaches me; but yet alone: The thousand gay companions that took wing

Along with it have perish'd one by one,

Scatter'd o'er space like blossoms of the spring.

Some to yon nearer orbs have sped their

course,

Yon city's smoke has quench'd a thousand

more;

Myriads in yon dark cloud have spent their force;

A few stray gleams are all that reach our shore.

And so with us! How many, who began Life's race with us, are drooping by the way Losing themselves in darkness one by one, From the glad goal departing wide astray

When we shall reach the kingdom of the blest, How few who started with us shall we find Arriving or arrived, for glorious rest;

How many shall we mourn as left behind!*

*" Pauci læta arva tenemus."- Virgil, Eneid, VI.