human
O man! O white-haired man! the vision said
gpt
Since we two sat beside this monument Life's clearest hues are all evanishèd; The golden wealth thou hadst of me is spent; The wind hath swept thy flowers, their leaves are shed The music is played out that with thee went.
human
Peace, peace! he cried,
gpt
I lost thee, but, in truth, There are worse losses than the loss of youth.