sad poetry

this is the song of youth
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
that year
over the river, on the hill
for i was a gaunt, grave councillor
i saw god. do you doubt it?
in their ragged regimentals
night was black and drear
be not false
my mother taught me that every night
muffled drum's sad roll has beat
let us express our baser passions
dark-eyed