Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, I WILL NEVER GROW OLD, by SARA JANE CLARKE LIPPINCOTT


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

I WILL NEVER GROW OLD, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: O, no, I never will grow old
Last Line: I never will grow old!
Alternate Author Name(s): Greenwood, Grace
Subject(s): Aging


O, NO, I never will grow old;
Though years on years roll by,
And silver o'er my dark brown hair,
And dim my laughing eye,
They shall not shrivel up my soul,
Nor dim the glance of love
My heart casts on this world of ours,
And lifts to that above!
Now, with a passion for those haunts
Where wild, free nature reigns,
With life's tide leaping through my heart,
And revelling through my veins, --
'T is hard to think the time must come
When I can seek no more,
With step hold as a mountain child's,
Deep dell and rocky shore; --
No longer on my swift young steed,
Bound o'er the hills as now,
And meet half way the winds that toss
The loose locks from my brow!
Yet still my spirit may go forth
Where fearless fancy leads,
May take at will as glorious rides,
On wild, invisible steeds!
Ye tell me as a morning dream
Shall pass away, ere long,
My humble, yet most passionate,
Adoring love of song.
No, no! life's ills may throng my way,
And pride may bend the knee,
And Hope's bright banner kiss the dust; --
But lofty Poesy
Shall fling their slavish chains aside,
And spurn their dark control;
They never, never shall lay waste
That Italy of the soul!
My father, -- pleasant years may pass,
Ere his last sun shall set;
And -- blessed be the God of life! --
My mother liveth yet.
My sisters blend their souls with mine,
A laughing, loving band;
A heaven-set guard along our paths,
Our six brave brothers stand.
While God thus pours the light of joy
As sunshine round my home,
O, I'll lay up such a store of loves
For the stormy days to come!
In the joy and grief of every one
I'll seek to share a part,
Till grateful thoughts and wishes fond
Come thronging to my heart.
The earnest praises of the young,
The blessings of the old,--
I'll gather them in, I'll hoard them up,
As a miser hoards his gold!
Those loves may die, yet hopeful trust
Shall leave me, fail me, never;
I will plant roses on their graves, --
Vive la jeunesse for ever!
Smile on, doubt on, say life is sad,
The world is false and cold, --
I'll keep my heart glad, true, and warm, --
I never will grow old!





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