All that once was is again
Since the thunder and the wind
Went forth among other men
Coming with their ships at last
Safe for their long camp in one
Kept their place at dawn and ease.
Morn and crimson than the sun
Sing the sweet tune of the trees
Bringing the leaves to my fall;
In the upward air I pass,
Though they might rise at the call.
Look! grave, what the secret glass!