| |
| I KNOW not that the men of old | |
| Were better than men now, | |
| Of heart more kind, of hand more bold, | |
| Of more ingenuous brow: | |
| I heed not those who pine for force | 5 |
| A ghost of Time to raise, | |
| As if they thus could check the course | |
| Of these appointed days. | |
| |
| Still it is true, and over true, | |
| That I delight to close | 10 |
| This book of life self-wise and new, | |
| And let my thoughts repose | |
| On all that humble happiness | |
| The world has since forgone, | |
| The daylight of contentedness | 15 |
| That on those faces shone. | |
| |
| With rights, tho’ not too closely scann’d, | |
| Enjoy’d as far as known; | |
| With will by no reverse unmann’d, | |
| With pulse of even tone, | 20 |
| They from to-day and from to-night | |
| Expected nothing more | |
| Than yesterday and yesternight | |
| Had proffer’d them before. | |
| |
| To them was Life a simple art | 25 |
| Of duties to be done, | |
| A game where each man took his part, | |
| A race where all must run; | |
| A battle whose great scheme and scope | |
| They little cared to know, | 30 |
| Content as men-at-arms to cope | |
| Each with his fronting foe. | |
| |
| Man now his Virtue’s diadem | |
| Puts on and proudly wears: | |
| Great thoughts, great feelings came to them | 35 |
| Like instincts, unawares. | |
| Blending their souls’ sublimest needs | |
| With tasks of every day, | |
| They went about their gravest deeds | |
| As noble boys at play. | 40 |
| |
