There you stand At the holy gate, Before the hallowed And mighty greens, And the season of year, Is immortal spring And every star, And every night Is seen in a day.
But all things high and bright will cease to be, The sweet-browed icons of world proper, The honey-filled composers of lustrous song, The pink-coated lilies by the river-bed, The reigning crane and birds of paradise, The monuments of times and kingdoms made, The doomed age and furtherers of revolt, A new day,and murderers of reason.
When softly weeps the rock of age, Then swiftly gleams A ray of woe, And how oft Have we heard it told, The pacing fears And the make of decay, The whippings And the ravish in a day, The pain-filled murmurs Of those toddlers bred, The beatings And molesting of the aged, The ravages and […]
But I have only gleaned the years And weariness on me appears, My youthful joys are past return, Fortune and happiness to earn, My few talents and heyday poise, My greatness an expert employs, My love and the offspring I sire All that I recall in this mire. Where shall I dwell in the bower […]
When I seek and long for the maiden grand, I do but propose the feast of marriage, For my ripe age doth true manhood command And the mellowed beard doth mark the mileage, I saw you first that kindergarten day And trod home with you when the school was done, I held your hand and […]