THOU hast been wrong'd, I think old age; Thy sovereign reign comes not in wrath, Thou call'st us home from pilgrimage, Spreadest the seat and clear'st the hearth. The hopes and fears that shook our youth, By thee are turn'd to certainty; I see my boy become a man, I hold my girl's girl on my knee. Whate'er of good has been, dost thou In the departed past make sure; Whate'er has changed from weal to woe, Thy comrade Death stands nigh to cure. And once or twice in age there shines Brief gladness, as when winter weaves In frosty days o'er naked trees, A sudden splendor of white leaves. The past revives, and thoughts return, Which kindled once the youthful breast; They light us, though no more they burn, Then turn to grey and are at rest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DESOLATE FIELD by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS TO - (3) by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY SENEX TO MATT. PRIOR by JAMES KENNETH STEPHEN HOPE AND DESPAIR by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE FEATHERS ON THE GRASS by LAURA FRANCES ALEXANDER UNEASY PEACE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN A LEAVE-TAKING: 2 by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE EPITAPH ON MR. JOHN DEANE, OF NEW COLLEGE by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |