Classic Poem

Youth has its griefs, its disappointments keen,
Its baffled longings and its memories;
Its anguish in a joy that once hath been;
Its languid settling in a sinful ease.

And age has pleasures, rosy, fresh and warm,
And glad beguilements and expectancies;
Its heart of boldness for a threatened storm;
Its eager launching upon sunny seas.

Youth has its losses, sad and desolate;
Its wreck of precious freight where all was sent;
Its blight of trust, its helpless heart of fate,
Its dreary knowledge of illusion spent.

For life is but a day; and, dawn or eve,
The shadows must be long when suns are low
Old age may be surprised and loth to leave;
And youth may weary wait and long to go.