A MINUET

By George Santayana

Old Age, on tiptoe, lays her jewelled hand

Lightly in mine.— Come, tread a stately measure,

Most gracious partner, nobly poised and bland.

Ours be no boisterous pleasure,

But smiling conversation, with quick glance

And memories dancing lightlier than we dance,

Friends who a thousand joys

Divide and double, save one joy supreme

Which many a pang alloys.

Let wanton girls and boys

Cry over lovers’ woes and broken toys.

Our waking life is sweeter than their dream.