The light’s diminished in thine eyes
There’s no more kindling for the fire
What are these faces, clustered round?
It’s Hades spectres, underground
In time – and not much time at all
You’ll have to answer Charon’s call
And meet the ashes of the dead
As mourning wails enclose your breath
Yet you pursue your heady quest;
Penelope, brightest and best
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