Nor pangs of death, nor any other thing
That the old tristful gods on our heads may bring
Can rob us of this one hour in the midst of the years.
[pg 59]
The New Age and the Old
Like the small source of a smooth-flowing river,
Like the pale dawn of a wonderful day,
Comes the New Age, from High God, the good giver,
Comes with the shouts of the children at play:
As an old leaf whirls faster and faster