XXIV.

Not by the sunshine, with its golden glow, Nor the green earth, nor yet the laughing sky, Nor the fair flower-scents,[302] as they come and go In the soft air, like music wandering by; --Oh! not by these, th’ unfailing, are we taught How time and sorrow on our frames have wrought; But by the sadden’d eye, the darken’d brow Of kindred aspect, and the long dim gaze, Which tells us _we_ are changed--how changed from other days!