Classic Poem

Toys I had, soldiers of lead and a sword of tin
And kites and tops; but I broke the silly sword
And melted the soldiers, and fast as a top may spin
And high as a kite may fly, I sent a word
Whirling and soaring: asking. I was so thin
And restless; scarcely spoke and hardly heard
What people gossiped, too busy with the din
Of that one answer that daily was deferred.

And so I grew, and one day saw the tears
That made my mother's check salty to kiss,
And looked behind me at the vanishing years,
And looked before me at the approaching tide,
And knew myself a turmoil of mysteries
And life a whirlwind rushing at my side.