University of Virginia Library

LXIV.

[When we have panted past life's middle space]

When we have panted past life's middle space,
And stand and breathe a moment from the race,
These graver thoughts the heaving breast annoy:
“Of all our fields how very few are green!
And ah! what brakes, moors, quagmires, lie between
Tired age and childhood ramping wild with joy.”