Classic Poem

An Hour of Song! Perchance it shall be fleeter
For knowing it shall not detain us long.
So fleet the moments! Yet they shall be fleeter
If winged with music in an Hour of Song.

A Song of Childhood! Raise the artless numbers
That rhyme with brooks and flowers and busy birds;
With merry romps, with angel-guarded slumbers,
With joy that laughs at inexpressive words.

A Song of Youth and Love's divine delusion —
The strong, pure faith in one fair kindred soul —
The touch that turns the world's poor, sad confusion
To true delight, harmonious and whole!

A Song of Strife, of teeth set hard together,
Of hearts that press against the spear of fate;
Of helms that swerve not in the blackest weather;
Of lips that smile their high contempt of hate!

Ah, sing the riches we may keep forever —
The kiss, the smile, the song, the sky above —
The friendships held so high that friends can never
By any act deprive them of our love!

Sing then, who can! Soon to our duller senses
A Silence on the Song and Singer falls;
Yet who shall say with what fine recompenses
The sounds may haunt the Soul's eternal halls?

An Hour of Song! Your hands, dear ones, extending,
Join in the chorus, fair and full and strong;
Brave voices in the last dear moment blending —
So brief and sweet is life — An Hour of Song!