Percy Bysshe Shelley
 
 
  Like the ghost of a dear friend dead
      Is Time long past.
A tone which is now forever fled,
A hope which is now forever past,
A love so sweet it could not last,
      Was Time long past.
 
  There were sweet dreams in the night
       Of Time long past:
And, was it sadness or delight,
Each day a shadow onward cast
Which made us wish it yet might last—
       That Time long past.
 
  There is regret, almost remorse,
       For Time long past.
‚Tis like a child’s belovèd corse
A father watches, till at last
Beauty is like remembrance, cast
       From Time long past.