A Youth, light-hearted and content,
I wander through the world
Here, Arab-like, is pitched my tent
And straight again is furled.
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The poem claims at first that A Youth, light-hearted and content, I wander through the world but that is not the real person being discussed. It is a man who is consumed with The end lies ever in my thought; To a grave so cold and deep
And when the dark lock I behold, I wish that I were dead.