I love to talk of old things and old times, Old books, old friends, old manners, and beguile The passing hours with the olden rhymes, Review the vagaries of each, ancient style, And like the poet of an age that's gone My days among the dead are often passed. I see the mighty minds of old shine on, Their lustre ne'er bedimmed nor e'er out-classed. For in those old thoughts we but live again, And what is life but simply doing o'er The old time things with all their joy and pain, And modern wisdom is but ancient lore. Eternity, when summed up, means but this; There is no old, there is no new, and youth When touched by Time's regenerating kiss Receives a vision of eternal truth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LONELY BURIAL by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET PORTRAIT OF A BABY by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET NO MATTER WHAT, AFTER ALL, AND THAT BEAUTIFUL WORD SO by HAYDEN CARRUTH DAWN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BRER RABBIT, YOU'S DE CUTES' OF 'EM ALL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON ON A PALMETTO by SIDNEY LANIER |