Anne and Gilbert go for a walk after Diana’s wedding:

“Are you going to be in Avonlea all summer?” asked Gilbert.

“No. I’m going down east to Valley Road next week. Esther Haythorne wants me to teach for her through July and August. They have a summer term in that school, and Esther isn’t feeling well. So I’m going to substitute for her. In one way I don’t mind. Do you know, I’m beginning to feel a little bit like a stranger in Avonlea now? It makes me sorry — but it’s true. It’s quite appalling to see the number of children who have shot up into big boys and girls — really young men and women — these past two years. Half of my pupils are grown up. It makes me feel awfully old to see them in the places you and I and our mates used to fill.”

Anne laughed and sighed. She felt very old and mature and wise — which showed how young she was. She told herself that she longed greatly to go back to those dear merry days when life was seen through a rosy mist of hope and illusion, and possessed an indefinable something that had passed away forever. Where was it now — the glory and the dream?

“`So wags the world away,’ ” quoted Gilbert practically, and a trifle absently. Anne wondered if he were thinking of Christine. Oh, Avonlea was going to be so lonely now — with Diana gone!

-Anne of the Island ch.29

So Wags the World
Ella Mackay Hutchkinson Cortissoz

MEMORY cannot linger long,
Joy must die the death.
Hope’s like a little silver song
Fading in a breath.
So wags the weary world away
Forever and a day.

But love, that sweetest madness,
Leaps and grows in toil and sadness,
Makes unseeing eyes to see,
And heapeth wealth in penury.
So wags the good old world away
Forever and a day

Source

“1122. So Wags the World by Ella Mackay Hutchkinson Cortissoz. Stedman, Edmund Clarence, ed. 1900. An American Anthology 1787 - 1900.” Online, Internet. Available : http://www.bartleby.com/248/1122.html