Music I heard with you was more than music,

And bread I broke with you was more than bread;

Now that I am without you, all is desolate;

All that was once so beautiful is dead.

All lovely things will have an ending,

All lovely things will fade and die,

And youth, that's now so bravely spending,

Will beg a penny by and by.

Time is a dream ... a destroying dream;

It lays great cities in dust, it fills the seas;

It covers the face of beauty, and tumbles walls.

Conrad Aiken Poetry - more poems by Aiken.

Conrad Aiken Bibliography - a bibliography, including list of critical resources.