V — OLD AGE

The young see heaven — but to the old who wait

The final call, the hills of youth arise

More beautiful than shores of Paradise.

Beside a glowing and voracious grate

A dozing couple dream of yesterday;

The islands of a vanished past appear,

Bringing forgotten names and faces near;

While lost in mist, the present fades away.

The fragrant winds of tender memories blow

Across the gardens of the “Used-to-be!”

They smile into each other's eyes, and see

The bride and bridegroom of the long ago.

And tremulous lips, pressed close to faded cheek

Love's silent tale of deathless passion speak.