IN AGE.

And art thou he, now “fall'n on evil days,”

And changed indeed! Yet what do this sunk cheek,

These thinner locks, and that calm forehead speak!

A spirit reckless of man's blame or praise,—

A spirit, when thine eyes to the noon's blaze

Their dark orbs roll in vain, in suffering meek,

As in the sight of God intent to seek,

‘ Mid solitude or age, or through the ways

Of hard adversity, the approving look

Of its great Master; whilst the conscious pride

Of wisdom, patient and content to brook

All ills to that sole Master's task applied,

Shall show before high heaven the unaltered mind,

Milton, though thou art poor, and old, and blind!