AH! was it I, who loved to spend, The long laborious Autumn day, Till the slow twilight neared its end, Content to chase, to wound, to slay; Who watched unmoved the victims die? Ah! was it I? And was it I, who flushed with pride, And insolence of swelling years, Faith's simple teachings would deride, Taking no heed for saintly tears, Who scorned the upward path to try? Ah! was it I? And was it I who saw the Light Fade at high noon and leave behind Dark spectres of a haunted night, Sick fancies of a clouded mind, Deep sloughs of sense, lusts of the eye? Ah! was it I? Yet was it I whom from life's dawn, Some ray of a diviner Sun, Some heavenly music far withdrawn, Compassed till perilous youth was done, Some soaring angel-fancies high? Ah! was it I? And was it I whose riper age Knew all the earlier visions fade, Dull silence quench youth's nobler rage, Blank solitudes myself had made, Hope, laughter, sinking to a sigh? Ah! was it I? Ay! it was I -- the pitiless child, The unfaithful youth, the man who saw With brain mature, and heart grown mild, The silent, sad, unbending Law! From change to change Life's seasons fly, Ay! it was I! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...QUEST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON CHAMBER MUSIC: 35 by JAMES JOYCE DISMAL MOMENT PASSING by CLARENCE MAJOR |