WITH cheerful step the traveller Pursues his early way, When first the dimly-dawning east Reveals the rising day. He bounds along his craggy road, He hastens up the height, And all he sees and all he hears, But only give delight. And if the mist retiring slow, Roll round its wavy white, He thinks the morning vapours hide Some beauty from his sight. But when behind the western clouds Departs the fading day, How wearily the traveller Pursues his evening way! Then sorely o'er the craggy road His painful footsteps creep, And slow with many a feeble pause, He labours up the steep. And if the mists of night close round, They fill his soul with fear; He dreads some unseen precipice, Some hidden danger near. So cheerfully does youth begin Life's pleasant morning stage; Alas! the evening traveller feels The fears of wary age! |