IN DAYS TO COME

By James Whitcomb Riley

In days to come — whatever ache

Of age shall rack our bones, or quake

Our slackened thews — whatever grip

Rheumatic catch us i’ the hip,—

We, each one, for the other's sake,

Will of our very wailings make

Such quips of song as well may shake

The spasm'd corners from the lip —

In days to come.

Ho! ho! how our old hearts shall rake

The past up!— how our dry eyes slake

Their sight upon the dewy drip

Of juicy-ripe companionship,

And blink stars from the blind opaque —

In days to come.