The stars sink one by one from sight,
 No trace of them we find;
They vanish from the brow of night,
And none is left behind
And none is left behind.

The sun goes to his ocean-bed,
 In all his rays enshrined,
He wraps them round his crimson head,
And leaveth none behind
To mourn,
And leaveth none behind.

The beautiful and gifted dead,
 The noblest of our kind,
Have cast their work aside and fled,
And we are left behind
And we are left behind.

The dear old friends of early time,
 Hearts round our hearts entwined,
Have faded from us in their prime,
And we are left behind
To mourn,
And we are left behind.

Pale stars, red sun, ye come again,
 For whom no heart has pined,
We call our darlings back in vain,
Still are we left behind
Still are we left behind.

Oh, dear ones, teach us so to run
 Our race, in sun and wind,
That we may win where ye have won,
Though we be left behind
Though we be left behind!
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