Classic Poem

And again! through our mists of sunset,
And the shadows that shroud the day,
There's a bloom from the blush of the morning,
And a balm from the breath of May.

The eyes of the little children!
And the children's voices! sweet
As a clover-scented carol
That bursts at our weary feet!

So our shadows are not so heavy,
And our wrinkles are smooth, in truth,
Our sunset touched by the sunshine
As the world renews its youth.