Classic Poem

Growing older, the heart's not colder:
Losing youngness, the eye sees clearer.
(Inward eye, while our sight grows blurred.)
Living longer, the soul grows stronger.
Looked on, the darkening weald grows dearer.
(Weald of youth, a remembered word.)

Soul undaunted and heart death-haunted
Dwell together, estranged yet one.
(Starlight lonely and firelit room.)
Heart, be brave as you go to your grave;
Soul, be girt for the race unrun.
(Holpen both by ghosts from the gloom.)