LINES WRITTEN IN DEJECTION
 
 WHEN have I last looked on
 The round green eyes and the long wavering bodies
 Of the dark leopards of the moon?
 All the wild witches, those most noble ladies,
 For all their broom-sticks and their tears,
 Their angry tears, are gone.
 The holy centaurs of the hills are vanished;
 I have nothing but the embittered sun;
 Banished heroic mother moon and vanished,
 And now that I have come to fifty years
 I must endure the timid sun.