Classic Poem

Eheu fugaces, Postume
(An old quotation out of mode)
My coat of dreams is stolen away
My youth is passing down the road

The wealth of Youth, we spent it well
And decently, as very few can:
And is it lost? I cannot tell
And what is more, I doubt if you can:

The question's very much too wide
And much too deep and much too hollow,
And learned men on either side
Use arguments I cannot follow.

They say that in that better place
Where all things distant are made near,
We meet our morning face to face
And feel again our twentieth year.

Whose face was bent to the furrow,
Who ate not the fruit as it hung,
On the Twilight Tree, and did not know
The best or the worst too young

This is the worker's blessing
The world's first viols played
A flutter of robes and faces,
A heaven and earth new made.

I will sing of the great archangels,
And the dead Christ hung on Tree:
But the great strange song of the Second Youth
Is a song too high for me.