The more the years the more we all remember Our yesterdays, the things that used to be; The summertime seems fairer in December, And roses fade, but not from memory. Youth has so much, and thinks how empty age is, With only dreams of things of long ago; But we who sit and turn life's lovely pages, What joy we know! The more the years the more our sorrows soften, The more the years the more they turn to gold; Yes, life's a tale, though told however often, That fairer grows with ev'ry time it's told. Youth has today, and youth is young and clever, Age only yesterdays of smiles and tears; And yet the past grows lovelier forever, The more the years. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEDICATION IN THESE DAY by HAYDEN CARRUTH GLAMOUR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DAT GAL O' MINE by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON TO OUR MOCKING-BIRD; DIED OF A CAT, MAY, 1878 by SIDNEY LANIER A NEW HYMN by KATHERINE MANSFIELD |