Classic Poem

So many Aprils went away
Before I learned one little part
Of all the joy each fragile day
Hid in its heart.

So many Summers hastened by
Before I caught their secret spell,
And read in bloom and leaf and sky
Life's miracle.

Would that Youth's eye could see the grace
And wonder of the drifting years …
Grown old, their loveliness we trace
Through blinding tears.