 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
AT SEVENTY-TWO.
The night is drawing near—the night of life;
A tinge of green is o'er the arching blue;
Passes both storm and sunshine, peace and strife;
Deepen the shadows now of seventy-two.
A tinge of green is o'er the arching blue;
Passes both storm and sunshine, peace and strife;
Deepen the shadows now of seventy-two.
Bright was the dawning of my early days;
Tinted the skies by orange hues and red;
Up rose the sun and with its brilliant rays
A glorious splendor on my pathway shed.
Tinted the skies by orange hues and red;
Up rose the sun and with its brilliant rays
A glorious splendor on my pathway shed.
624
O'er hills, through valleys, was my destined way,
Now rising easily to the summits where
Hope showed my sight the goal that forward lay,
Now downward to some Valley of Despair.
Now rising easily to the summits where
Hope showed my sight the goal that forward lay,
Now downward to some Valley of Despair.
Not always lonely. Came ere lifetime's noon
Another with me, and some others came;
I thought kind Fortune gave her choicest boon;
Now none remain at hand to bear my name.
Another with me, and some others came;
I thought kind Fortune gave her choicest boon;
Now none remain at hand to bear my name.
Long ere the shadows lengthened from the west,
They at the wayside fell, and there they lay;
I mourned, but stayed not; steadily on I pressed—
'Twas mine to journey through my little day.
They at the wayside fell, and there they lay;
I mourned, but stayed not; steadily on I pressed—
'Twas mine to journey through my little day.
'Tis nearly over; in this darkening hour,
While gloom and sorrow pierce the spirit through,
The limbs grow weak and lose their olden power;
Weakness and darkness come at seventy-two.
While gloom and sorrow pierce the spirit through,
The limbs grow weak and lose their olden power;
Weakness and darkness come at seventy-two.
Yet, though I lack the strength of morning time,
The pride of noon, here, in the evening still,
I hold as much as in my manhood's prime,
Unflinching purpose and unconquered will.
The pride of noon, here, in the evening still,
I hold as much as in my manhood's prime,
Unflinching purpose and unconquered will.
To pierce the dim beyond the power I lack;
I turn to see behind a fitful light;
The future, vague, uncertain—looking back,
By memory's glow the past of life grows bright.
I turn to see behind a fitful light;
The future, vague, uncertain—looking back,
By memory's glow the past of life grows bright.
There lie dead follies in the path I took;
There lie dead joys that struggled long for life;
There lie grand purposes which hope forsook;
There lie the fragments of a noble strife.
There lie dead joys that struggled long for life;
There lie grand purposes which hope forsook;
There lie the fragments of a noble strife.
625
And there—the one part living of my aim—
The good I did to others, ere I grew
To be heart-chilled by lust of gold and fame—
These meet my backward gaze at seventy-two.
The good I did to others, ere I grew
To be heart-chilled by lust of gold and fame—
These meet my backward gaze at seventy-two.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |