Volume I Part 87 (2/2)

Robert Southey [1774-1843]

TO AGE

Welcome, old friend! These many years Have we lived door by door: The Fates have laid aside their shears Perhaps for some few more.

I was indocile at an age When better boys were taught, But thou at length hast made me sage, If I am sage in aught.

Little I know from other men, Too little they from me, But thou hast pointed well the pen That writes these lines to thee.

Thanks for expelling Fear and Hope, One vile, the other vain; One's scourge, the other's telescope, I shall not see again:

Rather what lies before my feet My notice shall engage.-- He who hath braved Youth's dizzy heat Dreads not the frost of Age.

Walter Savage Landor [1775-1864]

LATE LEAVES

The leaves are falling; so am I; The few late flowers have moisture in the eye; So have I too.

Scarcely on any bough is heard Joyous, or even unjoyous, bird The whole wood through.

Winter may come: he brings but nigher His circle (yearly narrowing) to the fire Where old friends meet.

Let him; now heaven is overcast, And spring and summer both are past, And all things sweet.

Walter Savage Landor [1775-1864]

YEARS

Years, many parti-colored years, Some have crept on, and some have flown Since first before me fell those tears I never could see fall alone.

Years, not so many, are to come, Years not so varied, when from you One more will fall: when, carried home, I see it not, nor hear Adieu.

Walter Savage Landor [1775-1864]

THE RIVER OF LIFE

The more we live, more brief appear Our life's succeeding stages: A day to childhood seems a year, And years like pa.s.sing ages.

The gladsome current of our youth, Ere pa.s.sion yet disorders, Steals, lingering like a river smooth Along its gra.s.sy borders.

But as the careworn cheek grows wan, And sorrow's shafts fly thicker, Ye Stars, that measure life to man, Why seem your courses quicker?

When joys have lost their bloom and breath, And life itself is vapid, Why, as we reach the Falls of Death, Feel we its tide more rapid?

<script>