A Variation YOUTH rambles on life's arid mount, And strikes the rock, and finds the vein, And brings the water from the fount, The fount which shall not flow again. The man mature with labour chops For the bright stream a channel grand, And sees not that the sacred drops Ran off and vanish'd out of hand. And then the old man totters nigh And feebly rakes among the stones. The mount is mute, the channel dry; And down he lays his weary bones. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A WORKING PARTY by SIEGFRIED SASSOON LAMENT OF THE IRISH EMIGRANT by HELEN SELINA SHERIDAN THE HERO OF VIMY; AN INCIDENT OF THE GREAT WAR by BRENT DOW ALLINSON THREE PORTRAITS by GAMALIEL BRADFORD THE ANGRY ONES by BERTON BRALEY THE LOST ATLANTIS by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON REMARKS ON DR. AKENSIDE'S AND MR. WHITEHEAD'S VERSES by JOHN BYROM |