Classic Poem

The woods are bronzed with autumn
When all the leaves are gold
The year grows old around me
And I am passing old
The walls are gilt with mosses
Leaves are a golden sea
The world is fair and ancient
And all is sweet to me.

When I was young and yearning
I chased a drifting dream
I saw a world's ideal
Through mere and tangle gleam
But now the common millions
That trust and toil and grieve
Are flushed in one great sunset
The light I soon must leave.

The young heart, wild and windy
May chase the fresh-blown seed
May seek the lonely blossom
That burns upon the mead.
But stricken hearts grow gentle
And I am passing old
And now I sit in autumn
When all the leaves are gold.