Shapes and Shadows — A Song for Old Age

A SONG FOR OLD AGE.

Now nights grow cold and colder, And North the wild vane swings, And round each tree and boulder The driving snow-storm sings-- Come, make my old heart older, O memory of lost things!

Of Hope, when promise sung her Brave songs and I was young, That banquets now on hunger Since all youth's songs are sung;

Of Love, who walks with younger Sweethearts the flowers among.

Ah, well!

while Life holds levee, Death's ceaseless dance goes on.

So let the curtains, heavy About my couch, be drawn-- The curtains, sad and heavy, Where all shall sleep anon.