Page:Carroll - Phantasmagoria and other poems (1869).djvu/214

202 Ay, changeless through the changing scene, The ghostly whisper rings between, The dark refrain of 'might have been.'

The race is o'er I might have run, The deeds are past I might have done, And sere the wreath I might have won.

Sunk is the last faint flickering blaze; The vision of departed days Is vanished even as I gaze.

The pictures with their ruddy light Are changed to dust and ashes white, And I am left alone with night.