Classic Poem

We then let go the sunny day
As one from many thousands more,
And let the evening glide away
As one from thousands yet in store;
As waterpools that little shrink
From one sip taken at the brink.

We took each holiday we spent
As heading more of sweeter rest,
And ev'ry joy as only meant
To be a smaller ere the best;
As if, since boyhood's leaps are high,
The boy might hope, as man, to fly.

And now that many years we thought
Were yet to come have glided by,
The day, which then would seem as nought
With thousands more, is rated high;
As men from tighter hand may spend
The coins of some great hoard's last end.