As you advance in years you long For what you scorned when but a boy: Then 'twas the town, now the birds' song Is your obsession and your joy. And, as you lie and die, maybe You will look back, unreconciled To that dark hour, and clearly see Yourself a little wistful child. Into the jaws of death you'll bring No virile triumph, wrought with pain; But only to the monster fling The daydream and the daisy-chain, The lisped word, the gentle touch, The wonder, and the mystic thought, For old gray Death upon his crutch To rake into his Bag of Nought. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TEMPEST: PROLOGUE by JOHN DRYDEN WOMEN MEN'S SHADOWS by BEN JONSON DREAMS OLD AND NASCENT: NASCENT by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. BENJAMIN PANTIER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS FOR THE YOUNGEST by CHARLES WESLEY |