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164 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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Naught behind had power to hold us; all before had charms to woo.
Hope to me held forth her garlands, Love her rose-wreathed crown to you;
Hope has vanished, Love has perished ; dust lies deep on rose and bay,
Yet though storm and gloom beset us, sunshine oft has warmed our way. |
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Many a face has smiled upon us, brightening hours that else were drear,
Many an eye with kindness kindled, sparkling friendship, glancing cheer;
O'er the scenes now fading from us, many a drifting cloud has strayed,
Yet my friend, when all is balanced, we have seen more sun than shade. |
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Dreams are gone, the world is real; this we've learned
and this we know :— Though we build Utopian mansions, still our feet must
tread below; All the gloss and glow that fancy spreads to lure the
steps of youth, Fast recede and faster vanish, driven by staid, prosaic
truth. |
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Now with grave-eyed age advancing, heralded by
silvery gleams, Though the locks that late were ebon, every season
shorter seems; |
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