Poem A Day Open in app

Classic poem

Youth And Age

by Samuel Coleridge

Verse, a Breeze 'mid blossoms straying,

Where HOPE clung feeding, like a bee--

Both were mine ! Life went a-maying

With NATURE, HOPE, and POESY,

[Image][Image]When I was young !

When I was young ?--Ah, woful WHEN !

Ah ! for the Change 'twixt Now and Then !

This breathing House not built with hands,

This body that does me grievous wrong,

O'er жry Cliffs and glittering Sands,

How lightly then it flashed along :--

Like those trim skiffs, unknown of yore,

On winding lakes and rivers wide,

That ask no aid of Sail or Oar,

That fear no spite of Wind or Tide !

Nought cared this Body for wind or weather

When YOUTH and I lived in't together.

FLOWERS are lovely ; LOVE is flower-like ;

FRIENDSHIP is a sheltering tree ;

O ! the Joys, that came down shower-like,

Of FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, and LIBERTY,

[Image] [Image] [Image] [Image] Ere I was old !

Ere I was old ? Ah woful ERE,

Which tells me, YOUTH'S no longer here !

O YOUTH ! for years so many and sweet,

'Tis known, that Thou and I were one,

I'll think it but a fond conceit--

It cannot be that Thou art gone !

Thy Vesper-bell hath not yet toll'd :--

And thou wert aye a Masker bold !

What strange Disguise hast now put on,

To make believe, that thou art gone ?

I see these Locks in silvery slips,

This drooping Gait, this altered Size :

But SPRINGTIDE blossoms on thy Lips,

And Tears take sunshine from thine eyes !

Life is but Thought : so think I will

That YOUTH and I are House-mates still.

Dew-drops are the gems of morning,

But the tears of mournful eve !

Where no hope is, life's a warning

That only serves to make us grieve,

[Image][Image]When we are old :

That only serves to make us grieve

With oft and tedious taking-leave,

Like some poor nigh-related guest,

That may not rudely be dismist ;

Yet hath outstay'd his welcome while,

And tells the jest without the smile.

naturelovebeautyhopesolitudegriefwaridentity
Public domain/Source

Read a new poem every day.

Poem A Day turns classic poetry into a quiet daily ritual, with saved poems and a calm reader built for returning.