Forget, forget, and be not sorrowful at all!
Ah, tend no more, in gardens of the terrene years,
This wormwood flowering tall with thy mellifluous tears.

Be glad! A fairer blossom blooms, chimerical,
A golden rose eloigned with vale on vale of blue
In realms beyond the sunset bourn of Xanadu.

Be glad! though here the skies are like a leaden wall!
For still in Saturn, from their isle septentrion,
The black swans fly to seek the jungles of the sun.

Forget, forget, and be not sorrowful at all!