Words and Moods in Late August

I spit into the face of Time
That has transfigured me.
_______

I have nothing but the embittered sun;

_______

Time drops in decay,
Like a candle burnt out,
And the mountains and the woods
Have their day, have their day;

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But O, in a minute she changed--
O do not love too long,
Or you will grow out of fashion
Like an old song.

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I heard the old, old men say,
'Everything alters,
And one by one we drop away.'

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You are safer in the tomb.

_______

So people and things don't pair any more
With what they used to pair with before.