| |
| WE are desert leagues apart; | |
| Time is misty ages now | |
| Since the warmth of heart to heart | |
| Chased the shadows from my brow. | |
| |
| Oh, I am so old, meseems | 5 |
| I am next of kin to Time, | |
| The historian of her dreams | |
| From the long-forgotten prime. | |
| |
| You have come a path of flowers. | |
| What a way was mine to roam! | 10 |
| Many a fallen empire’s towers, | |
| Many a ruined heart my home. | |
| |
| No, there is no comfort, none. | |
| All the dewy tender breath | |
| Idly falls when life is done | 15 |
| On the starless brow of death. | |
| |
| Though the dream of love may tire, | |
| In the ages long agone | |
| There were ruby hearts of fire— | |
| Ah, the daughters of the dawn! | 20 |
| |
| Though I am so feeble now, | |
| I remember when our pride | |
| Could not to the Mighty bow; | |
| We would sweep His stars aside. | |
| |
| Mix thy youth with thoughts like those— | 25 |
| It were but to wither thee, | |
| But to graft the youthful rose | |
| On the old and flowerless tree. | |
| |
| Age is no more near than youth | |
| To the sceptre and the crown. | 30 |
| Vain the wisdom, vain the truth; | |
| Do not lay thy rapture down. | |
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