IN childhood, when with eager eyes The season-measured year I view'd, Al garb'd in fairy guise, Pledged constancy of good. Spring sang of heaven; the summer flowers Bade me gaze on, and did not fade; Even suns o'er autumn's bowers Heard my strong wish, and stay'd. They came and went, the short-lived four; Yet, as their varying dance they wove To my young heart each bore Its own sure claim of love. Far different now; -- the whirling year Vainly my dizzy eyes pursue; And its fair tints appear All blent in one dusk hue. Why dwell on rich autumnal lights, Spring-time, or winter's social ring? Long days are fire-side nights, Brown autumn is fresh spring. Then what this world to thee, my heart? Its gifts nor feed thee nor can bless. Thou hast no owner's part In all its fleetingness. The flame, the storm, the quaking ground, Earth's joy, earth's terror, nought is thine, Thou must but hear the sound Of the still voice divine. O priceless art! O princely state! E'en while by sense of change opprest, Within to antedate Heaven's Age of fearless rest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FALLEN STAR by GEORGE DARLEY LINES WRITTEN IN A CITY COMPOSING-ROOM by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS FAREWELL by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE THE PIONEER by HENRY MEADE BLAND IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: A CONVENT WITHOUT GOD by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |