Classic Poem

I.

Billy , I seem this late October day
To hear the toll of some dull-throated bell!
They're calling time on me, and the game's to play:
But what the hell, Bill — what the hell!

II.

Let me alone awhile! I want to stay
Unanxious for an hour o'er what's ahead:
I'll make no vow at forty; this birthday
We'll give to memories of the Past instead.

III.

Turn back thirty years! Sit down and try
To call the times we had, the things we said,
The fresh sweet taste of life so long gone by,
When you and I and Dick, and others dead,

IV.

Made great romance beneath a Western sky,
Living thro' all the Seasons presently:
Then was no Past, and for the Future — why
That was a treasure-cave of things to be.

V.

Now you have won a name and places high,
And little Dick has grown so great and grey:
The luckier ones are seen no more, while I
Go wandering an unprofitable way.

VI.

Last year, at Ottawa, I mind Noil,
After each story that you told, would say,
Drinking old brandy in that old hotel,
" La vie est triste, mon brave — soyons gai! "

VII.

And that's a song for all, when all is said:
Billy, I'd like to be in some cafe
With some of those choice fellows that you've led
And put a purple finish to this day.

VIII.

Tho' I'm no inky pessimist, nor bred,
When I am hurt, to howl against the sky,
Yet there be times I turn a troubled head,
And for one hour of rich abandon sigh.

IX.

But let it go! To all I've had to say
Hear that dull-throated bell make one reply!
Half-time is call'd for me, and the game's to play,
And still I've made no score — no score — yet I.

X.

Have many dreams like jewels hid away,
And many love me — more than I can tell:
And my heart is warm to all my friends this day, —
So what the hell, Bill — what the hell!