When I was young?—Ah, woful When! That fear no spite of wind or tide! Naught cared this body for wind or weather When Youth and I lived in't together. Flowers are lovely; Love is flower-like; Friendship is a sheltering tree; Oh! the joys that came down shower-like, Of Friendship, Love, and Liberty Ere I was old! Ere I was old? Ah, woful Ere, Dewdrops are the gems of morning, The Old Man's Comforts That only serves to make us grieve 385 Samuel Taylor Coleridge [1772-1834] THE OLD MAN'S COMFORTS AND HOW HE GAINED THEM "You are old, Father William," the young man cried; "The few locks which are left you are gray; You are hale, Father William,- -a hearty old man: Now tell me the reason, I pray." "In the days of my youth," Father William replied, And abused not my health and my vigor at first, "You are old, Father William," the young man cried, And yet you lament not the days that are gone: "In the days of my youth," Father William replied, I thought of the future, whatever I did, That I never might grieve for the past." "You are old, Father William," the young man cried, You are cheerful, and love to converse upon death: "I am cheerful, young man," Father William replied; In the days of my youth, I remembered my God, Robert Southey (1774-1843] TO AGE WELCOME, old friend! These many years Have we lived door by door: The Fates have laid aside their shears I was indocile at an age When better boys were taught, But thou at length hast made me sage, Little I know from other men, Too little they from me, But thou hast pointed well the pen Thanks for expelling Fear and Hope, Rather what lies before my feet My notice shall engage. He who hath braved Youth's dizzy heat Dreads not the frost of Age. Walter Savage Landor [1775-1864] LATE LEAVES THE leaves are falling; so am I; The few late flowers have moisture in the eye; So have I too. Scarcely on any bough is heard Joyous, or even unjoyous, bird The whole wood through. Winter may come: he brings but nigher His circle (yearly narrowing) to the fire The River of Life Where old friends meet. Let him; now heaven is overcast, And all things sweet. 387 Walter Savage Landor [1775-1864] YEARS YEARS, many parti-colored years, Some have crept on, and some have flown Years, not so many, are to come, Walter Savage Landor [1775-1864] THE RIVER OF LIFE THE more we live, more brief appear A day to childhood seems a year, The gladsome current of our youth, But as the careworn cheek grows wan, Ye Stars, that measure life to man, When joys have lost their bloom and breath, And life itself is vapid, Why, as we reach the Falls of Death, Feel we its tide more rapid? It may be strange-yet who would change Heaven gives our years of fading strength And those of youth, a seeming length, Proportioned to their sweetness. Thomas Campbell [1777-1844] "LONG TIME A CHILD" LONG time a child, and still a child, when years No hope I needed, and I knew no fears. But sleep, though sweet, is only sleep; and waking, Hartley Coleridge [1796-1849] "YOUTH, THOU ART FLED" YOUTH, thou art fled, but where are all the charms Of what they have been? All thy boons and harms |