Classic Poem

Yes, there's a tide in life, in hope's fresh hues
When all is bathed; a time when we not yet
Have shaken hands with fear: when joy endues,
And bold aspiring promises (the debt
Not being yet drawn out, which, soon or late,
Will stare us in the face we have to pay
To pain, to sin, and man's degraded state)
The splendid future; and while on our way
Illusion still doth chaunt her necromantic lay.