 | Miami Woods : a golden wedding and other poems
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A simple melody, got long ago:
A cheerful thought, more difficult to learn.—
So lightly, fondly, sweetly, freshly lies
The youth within my heart: so rest it there!
'Tis only feeling makes us old: our years
But bear us toward the grave. We all must die,
But must not all grow old, except in years.
—The groves, whose beauty and whose music stole
Into my wondering spirit long ago,
Were ne'er more beautiful than now, were ne'er
More musical. I come and walk the ways
Of boyhood, and I find the flowers the same:
I pause, and sit in old familiar seats,
And see no change, save that the gathering mold
Is greener, and that now upon them press
Mosses and lichens of a few more years.—
The youth is in the heart of Nature, too!
| Miami Woods : a golden wedding and other poems
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