Where is the owl gone? Where the letter? Where the hat of sorting?
Where are the seats at the feast? Where are the revels in the hall?

How that time has passed away,
grown dark under cover of night, as if it had never been.

Which reminds me of The Wanderer's Lament for a Cooked Breakfast

Where is the egg gone? Where is the bacon?
Where is the sausage that was sizzling?
Where are the beans and the fried potatoes?
Where is the slice of fried bread?
Alas for the greasy frying pan!
Alas for the cooker of sausages!
Alas for the well-laden breakfast table!
Now that time has passed away,
Dark under the cover of night
As if it had never been!