When a voice sank to a whisper
And disgrace with fortune in men's eyes
All alone bewailing of a lost pair;
And yearn tardiness with a bootless cries,
And look upon thy selves and curse thy fate;

A noble youth in a humble home,
A mortal proved and friends possessed,
Desiring this youth's art and youth's scope,
And light within joy that least;

Yet in these thoughts youth's hypocrisy almost despising,
Haply they think on thee, and then thy state,
Eyes to the lark at break day arousing;

Yet lift...