Classic Poem

Back of the Now, with its filmy veil,
(You'll find him somewhere still)
There's a barefoot boy with a stone-bruised heel,
And a birdnote in his trill.

He knew how poverty built her nest,
Where sorrow had dwelt with pain;
He had felt the cry of a broken heart,
And the sunshine after the rain.

And it came to his heart as a prayer might come,
Or the dew that the flowers quaff,
That the drudging old world was poor and sad,
For the simple boon of a laugh.

Men passed him by in the maddened race
For glory and fame and gold;
But the barefoot boy with the stone-bruised heel
Went whistling as of old.

Back of the Now are the graves of the Past
That are lost in regret and tears;
And the men that sought fame and the men that sought gold
Are hid by the dust of the years.

But the barefoot boy with the stone-bruised heel
Who whistled and dreamed the while,
He has girdled the earth with his name and fame, —
Made the whole of the wide world smile.

So here's to him now, in his merriest mood,
A wizard of joy to men;
To the sunshine he chased in the corners of life,
And here's to his threescore and ten!