Part 1 — AN OLD MAN'S SONG
Reading edition
Ye are young, ye are young, I am old, I am old; And the song has been sung And the story been told.
Your locks are as brown As the mavis in May, Your hearts are as warm As the sunshine to-day, But mine white and cold As the snow on the brae.
And Love, like a flower, Is growing for you, Hands clasping, lips meeting, Hearts beating so true; While Fame like a star In the midnight afar Is flashing for you.
For you the To-come, But for me the Gone-by, You are panting to live, I am waiting to die; The meadow is empty, No flower groweth high, And naught but a socket The face of the sky.
Yea, how so we dream, Or how bravely we do; The end is the same, Be we traitor or true: And after the bloom And the passion is past, Death cometh at last.
Richard Le Gallienne [1866-