OLD friend, I know you line by line, The touch, the tone, the turn of phrase, Old autumn day, beloved and mine, Returning after many days; The ten years' journey since we bade farewell No hinted change or loss in you would ever tell. Your countenance still ripe and kind Gazes upon me, godlike day, And finding you again I find The tricks of time all thrown away. The recollected turns to here and now Beneath the equipoising glory of your brow. Now to your heaven the gossamers gleam, Still soaring in their trembling play, Their rosy scarves are spied astream; Whence borne and blown no one could say -- All out and dancing in the blue profound, The tranquil ultimation of the ages round. And here's that narrow orchard's grass, The last green luck for many a mile; The patient lines of mules I pass, And then must stand and talk awhile With gallant Maycock, spurred and gaitered, glowing With this ripe sun, and red as any orchard growing. This comrade, born to sow and stack, -- A golden sheaf might seem his brother -- To-night will ride where the angry track Is death and ruin in a smother, To-night I too must face the world's mad end -- But first we'll make this day, this godlike day our friend. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IMPROMPTU: TO FRANCES GARNET WOLSELEY by ALFRED AUSTIN FIGHT! (HARVARD-DARTMOUTH FOOTBALL GAME, 1908) by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE TO WILL D'AVENANT, MY FRIEND, UPON HIS POEM, 'MADAGASCAR' by THOMAS CAREW TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. THROUGH THE LONG NIGHT by EDWARD CARPENTER TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. TWIN STATUES OF AMENOPHIS III AT THEBES by EDWARD CARPENTER |