Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage (Canto the Fourth), by Lord Byron.
~My task is done, my song hath ceased, my theme
Has died into an echo; it is fit
The spell should break of this protracted dream.
The torch shall be extinguish’d which hath lit
My midnight lamp — and what is writ, is writ;
Would it were worthier! but I am not now
That which I have been — and my visions flit
Less palpably before me — and the glow
Which, in my spirit dwelt is fluttering, faint, and low.~