THOU hast been wrong'd, I think old age; Thy sovereign reign comes not in wrath, Thou call'st us home from pilgrimage, Spreadest the seat and clear'st the hearth. The hopes and fears that shook our youth, By thee are turn'd to certainty; I see my boy become a man, I hold my girl's girl on my knee. Whate'er of good has been, dost thou In the departed past make sure; Whate'er has changed from weal to woe, Thy comrade Death stands nigh to cure. And once or twice in age there shines Brief gladness, as when winter weaves In frosty days o'er naked trees, A sudden splendor of white leaves. The past revives, and thoughts return, Which kindled once the youthful breast; They light us, though no more they burn, Then turn to grey and are at rest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SACRED ELEGY: 5. THE SEPARATION OF MAN FROM GOD by GEORGE BARKER THE BOATMAN by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI FECUNDI CALICES by BACCHYLIDES SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 36. STRONG, LIKE THE SEA by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) LE ROI EST MORT. VIVE LE ROI! by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT A SIMPLE STORY, FR. MY SOUVENIRS by JACQUES BOE ENVOI by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB |