Classic Poem

I CAME into the world as others do;
Life quickening in my limbs, the burning blood
Racing through every vein and artery;
Free, vigorous, healthy; tuned to passionate themes,
And born for pleasure. I grew up—a man,
My spirit ripening as my limbs waxed strong;
I read, marked, hoarded; heaped up word on word,
And thought on thought; and, when severer years
Banished bright Hope and quelled my April laugh,
And hung the Future round with clouds of care,
Men dreamed that I was wise. Alas! I lost
The fruit of wisdom,—joy. I smiled, indeed,
As, day by day, I reckoned up my gains,
And learned how I had toiled, as sage men do,
Accumulating riches for no end:—
But still I was called wise, and that sufficed.
Now, look upon me! Didst thou ever see
Old A GE , girl? Look upon him,—face to face!
Observe, how white and withered is his skin:
How his lean limbs go tottering: how his tongue
Stammers forth sadness! From his eyes the light
Of love and intellect is quenched and gone:
And every thing about him, body and mind,
Tells a foul tale of Time.