The Past is flowing through my thoughts? 
 Flowing like a sea; 
With all its billows dancing bright 
Over what??an undermight 
 Of darkling loss and destiny. 
Still it floweth through my thoughts? 
 Floweth like a sea; 
While of worn hope I ask alway, 
Like an unsought cast-astray? 
 What can the future bring to me? 

And hope herself admits: To thee 
 But a darkening scene? 
Only slow days of care and doubt, 
Only a dreary lengthening out, 
 Of what this later past hath been.