And Folly, men call Wisdom here, forsooth;
And, like a youth,
Fair Falsehood, whom some worship for the Truth.
Abundance, who hath Famine's house in lease;
And, high 'mid these,
War, blood-black, on the spotless shrine of Peace.
Lift up thy torch, O Year! assist our sight!
Deep lies the night
Around us, and God grants us little light!
Then and Now.
When my old heart was young, my dear,
The Earth and Heaven were so near
That in my dreams I oft could hear
The steps of unseen races;
In woodlands, where bright waters ran,
On hills, God's rainbows used to span,
I followed voices not of man,
And smiled in spirit faces.
Now my old heart is old, my sweet,
No longer Earth and Heaven meet;
All Life is grown to one long street
Where fact with fancy clashes;
The voices now that speak to me
Are prose instead of poetry:
And in the faces now I see
Is less of flame than ashes.