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- THOU hast been wrong'd, I think old age;
- Thy soverign reign comes not in wrath,
- Thou call'st us home from pilgrimage,
- Spreadest the seat and clear'st the hearth.
- The hopes and fears that shook our youth,
- By thee are turn'd to a certainty;
- I see my boy become a man,
- I hold my girl's girl on my knee.
- Whate'er of good as been, dost thou
- In the departed past make sure;
- Whate'er has changed from weal to woe,
- Thy comrade Death stands nigh to cure.
- And once or twice in age there shines
- Brief gladness, as when winter weaves
- In frosty days o'er naked trees,
- A sudden splendour of white leaves.
- The past revives, and thoughts return,
- Which kindled once the youthful breast;
- They light us, though no more they burn,
- They turn to grey and are at rest.
- Carolyn Clive
Poets' Corner .
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