Classic Poem

The men and women round thee, what are they?
—Frail as the flowers, less lasting than the snow.
If there be angels flitting in the day,
—Who knows those angels? Who shall ever know?
Let them alone and go thou on thy way!
—They came like dreams; like dreams they come and go.

Nay, the companions of thy timeless hours
—Are dreams dreamt first for thee by them of old,
That thou might'st dream them after! These are powers
—Unending and unaging—never cold—
White as the driven snow, fair as the flowers.
—These be thy verities, to have, to hold!