| ‘Whom the gods love die young’ was said of yore, | |
| And many deaths do they escape by this: | |
| The death of friends, and that which slays even more— | |
| The death of friendship, love, youth, all that is, | |
| Except mere breath; and since the silent shore | |
| Awaits at last even those who longest miss | |
| The old archer’s shafts, perhaps the early grave | |
| Which men weep over may be meant to save. | |
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