AND this is what is left of youth! ... There were two boys, who were bred up together, Shared the same bed, and fed at the same board; Each tried the other's sport, from their first chace, Young hunters of the butterfly and bee, To when they follow'd the fleet hare, and tried The swiftness of the bird. They lay beside The silver trout stream, watching as the sun Played on the bubbles: shared each in the store Of either's garden: and together read Of him, the master of the desert isle, Till a low hut, a gun, and a canoe, Bounded their wishes. Or if ever came A thought of future days, 'twas but to say That they would share each other's lot, and do Wonders, no doubt. But this was vain: they parted With promises of long remembrance, words Whose kindness was the heart's, and those warm tears, Hidden like shame by the young eyes which shed them, But which are thought upon in after-years As what we would give worlds to shed once more. They met again, -- but different from themselves, At least what each remember'd of themselves: The one proud as a soldier of his rank, And of his many battles: and the other Proud of his Indian wealth, and of the skill And toil which gather'd it; each with a brow And heart alike darken'd by years and care. They met with cold words, and yet colder looks Each was changed in himself, and yet each thought The other only changed, himself the same. And coldness bred dislike, and rivalry Came like the pestilence o'er some sweet thoughts That linger'd yet, healthy and beautiful, Amid dark and unkindly ones. And they, Whose boyhood had not known one jarring word, Were strangers in their age: if their eyes met, 'Twas but to look contempt, and when they spoke, Their speech was wormwood! ... .... And this, this is life! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHAT DO I CARE by SARA TEASDALE THE FLAMING HEART by RICHARD CRASHAW THE COW IN APPLE TIME by ROBERT FROST LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI by JOHN KEATS THE SPIRIT OF POETRY by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW A VALENTINE by LAURA ELIZABETH HOWE RICHARDS NATIONAL ODE; INDEPENDENCE SQUARE, PHILADELPHIA by BAYARD TAYLOR IN AN OLD CEMETERY by LILLAH A. ASHLEY BRUCE: HOW KING ROBERT WAS HUNTED BY THE SLEUTH-HOUND by JOHN BARBOUR |