Palingenesis Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I lay upon the headland-height, and listened
To the incessant sobbing of the sea
       &nbsp In caverns under me,
And watched the waves, that tossed and fled and glistened,
Until the rolling meadows of amethyst
       &nbsp Melted away in mist.

Then suddenly, as one from sleep, I started;
For round about me all the sunny capes
       &nbsp Seemed peopled with the shapes
Of those whom I had known in days departed,
Apparelled in the loveliness which gleams
       &nbsp On faces seen in dreams.

A moment only, and the light and glory
Faded away, and the disconsolate shore
       &nbsp Stood lonely as before;
And the wild-roses of the promontory
Around me shuddered in the wind, and shed
       &nbsp Their petals of pale red.

There was an old belief that in the embers
Of all things their primordial form exists,
       &nbsp And cunning alchemists
Could re-create the rose with all its members
From its own ashes, but without the bloom,
       &nbsp Without the lost perfume.