Rondeau

As shadows pass, in the misty night,
  Over the wan and moonlit grass,
So passeth our glory out of sight,
  As shadows pass.

A little darkness, a little light,
  Sorrow and gladness, a weary mass,
Glimmer and falter and pass in blight.

So all our life, in waning flight,
  Fadeth and faltereth, alas;
Passeth our sorrow and our delight,
  As shadows pass.