Seeming empty to the eye,
Yet within this magic space,
Mantled all in golden grace,
Many costly gems do lie.
Like the blessings angels shed
From the wafture of their wings
Are these ghosts of lovely things, —
Love, and hope, and pleasure dead.
Guard these treasures of the Past!
Soon the shadows dim the day;
All the world will pass away, —
These alone remain at last.