Classic Poem

When kindly years have given me grace
To read your spirit through;
To see the starlight on your face,
Upon your hair the dew;

To touch the fingers of your hands,
The shining wealth they hold;
To find in dim and dreamy lands
That tender dusks enfold

The ancient sorrows that were sealed,
The hidden wells of joy,
The secrets that were unrevealed
To one who was a boy.

Then to my patient ponderings
Will fruits of solace fall,
When I have learned through many Springs,
Mighty and mystical,

To hear through sounds of brooks and birds
Love in the leafy grove,
As in my lyric heart your words
Bestir a lyric love.

Then I shall brood, grown good and wise,
The truth of fairy tales,
And greet romance with gay surprise
In woods of nightingales.

And find, with hoary head and sage,
In songs which I have sung
The meanings of the end of age—
The rapture of the young!