The Poetical Works of (Richard Monckton Milnes) Lord Houghton | ||
237
THE OLD MAN'S SONG.
Age is not a thing to measure
By the course of moon or star;
Time's before us—at our pleasure
We may follow near or far:
Strength and Beauty he has given,
They are his to take away,
But the Heart that well has striven
Is no slave of night or day.
By the course of moon or star;
Time's before us—at our pleasure
We may follow near or far:
Strength and Beauty he has given,
They are his to take away,
But the Heart that well has striven
Is no slave of night or day.
See upon yon mountain-ridges
How the fir-woods, spread between,
Reconcile the snow-clad edges
With the valley's vernal green;
So the lines of grave reflection,
You decipher on my brow,
Keep my age in glad connexion
With the young that flourish now.
How the fir-woods, spread between,
Reconcile the snow-clad edges
With the valley's vernal green;
So the lines of grave reflection,
You decipher on my brow,
Keep my age in glad connexion
With the young that flourish now.
Not that now poetic fire
Can along my life-strings run,
As when my Memnonian lyre
Welcomed every rising sun;
Though my heart no more rejoices
In the flashes of my brain,
In the freshness of your voices
Let me hear my songs again.
Can along my life-strings run,
As when my Memnonian lyre
Welcomed every rising sun;
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In the flashes of my brain,
In the freshness of your voices
Let me hear my songs again.
Did I love?—let Nature witness,
Conscious of my tears and truth;
Do I love?—O fatal fitness!
Still requiring youth for youth!
Yet, while thought the bliss remembers,
All delight is not gone by;
Warm your spirits o'er my embers,
Friends! and learn to love as I.
Conscious of my tears and truth;
Do I love?—O fatal fitness!
Still requiring youth for youth!
Yet, while thought the bliss remembers,
All delight is not gone by;
Warm your spirits o'er my embers,
Friends! and learn to love as I.
O my children! O my brothers!
If for self I lived too much,
Be my pleasures now for others,
Every passion now be such:
Be the chillness life-destroying,
That could make me slow to feel,
To enjoy with your enjoying,
To be zealous with your zeal.
If for self I lived too much,
Be my pleasures now for others,
Every passion now be such:
Be the chillness life-destroying,
That could make me slow to feel,
To enjoy with your enjoying,
To be zealous with your zeal.
Grant me not, ye reigning Hours
Virtues that beseem the young,
Vigour for my failing powers,
Music for my faltering tongue:
Let me, cheerful thoughts retaining,
Live awhile, nor fear to die,
Ever new affections gaining,
Such as Heaven might well supply.
Virtues that beseem the young,
Vigour for my failing powers,
Music for my faltering tongue:
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Live awhile, nor fear to die,
Ever new affections gaining,
Such as Heaven might well supply.
June, 1843.
The Poetical Works of (Richard Monckton Milnes) Lord Houghton | ||