Classic Poem

(A Sonnet)

And she shall be the friend of youth for aye:
Of quickening youth whose eyes have seen the gleam;
Of youth between whose tears and laughter stream
Bright bows of hope; of youth, audacious, gay,
Who dares to know himself a Caesar, say,
A Shakespeare or a Galahad The dream
To him is real; and things are as they seem,
For Beauty veils from him the feet of clay

How holy and how wonderful her trust —
Youth's friend — and, yes, how blest For down the west
Each day shall go the sun, and time in time
Shall die, the unborn shall again be dust;
But she with youth eternal on her breast,
Immortal, too, shall sit serene, sublime.