I HAVE a hoard of treasure in my breast; The grange of memory steams against the door, Full of my bygone lifetime's garnered store, Old pleasures crowned with sorrow for a zest, Old sorrow grown a joy, old penance blest, Chastened remembrance of the sins of yore That, like a new evangel, more and more Supports our halting will toward the best. Ah, what to us the barren after years May bring of joy or sorrow, who can tell? O, knowing not, who cares? It may be well That we shall find old pleasures and old fears, And our remembered childhood seen thro' tears The best of Heaven and the worst of Hell. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THIRTEEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT A BLACKBIRD by WALLACE STEVENS STELLA'S BIRTHDAY, 1726-7 by JONATHAN SWIFT RHAPSODY by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE LINES by JESSIE GODDARD BROMAN LYNCHERS by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN |