Youth

J UAN Ponce de Leon, by the Devil led,
With years weighed down, and crammed with antique lore,
Seeing age blanch his scanty hair still more,
The far seas scoured to find Health's Fountainhead.

By vain dream haunted his Armada sped
Three years the glaucous wildness to explore,
Till through the fog of the Bermudan shore
Loomed Florida whose skies enchantment shed.

Then the Conquistador his madness blessed,
And with enfeebled hand his pennon pressed
In that bright earth which opened for his tomb.

Old man, most happy thou: thy fortune sooth
Is deathlike, but thy dream bears beauty's bloom,
For Fame has given thee immortal Youth.
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