Play on, play on, I share your gorgeous glee,
Creatures of elemental mirth! play on,--
Let each fulfil his marvellous destiny,
My heart leaps up and falls in unison.
The Tower round which ye weave, with elfin grace,
The modulations of your burning dance,
Looks through your gambols with a grandsire's face,
A grave but not reproachful countenance;
Ye are the children of a festive night,
He is the mate of many an hundred years,--
Ye but attest men's innocent delight,
He is the comrade of their crimes and tears,--
Ye in your joy's pure prime will flare away,
He waits his end in still and slow decay.
