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The wheels of time work heavily; We marvel day by day To see how from the chain of life The gilding wears away.

Sad the mere change of fortune's chance, And sad the friend unkind; But what has sadness like the change That in ourselves we find?

I've wept my castle in the dust, Wept o'er an alter'd brow; 'Tis far worse murmuring o'er those tears, "Would I could weep them now!"