I know not what the future holds—
But this I know,
Youth is a guest, who on his way
Too soon will go.
Once gone we call to deafened ears.
All prayers are vain!
For tears of blood, he will not come
Back once again.
Then spread the board of Life, with wine
And roses drest,
Drink deep and long, greet Joy and Love
While Youth is guest!
ARTHUR KETCHUM. Williams Literary Monthly,
~To Austin Dobson.~
Not unto you the gods gave wings,
To scale the far Olympic height,
But made content with simpler things,
Your Pegasus takes lower flight.
Yet while into oblivion float
Those vaster songs, sublimely grand—
All men are listening to your note,
And as they listen, understand.
Sing on, then, while the heart of youth
In glad accordance answ'ring thrills,
And life and love have still their truth,
As spring has still its daffodils.
ARTHUR KETCHUM. Williams Literary Monthly.
~With a Copy of Keats.~