Experience, with its dreadful fires,
Melts knowledge to a welding heat.
And all its fires of heart and brain,
Where purpose into power was wrought,
I’d bear, and gladly bear again,
Rather than be put back a thought.
So, sigh no more, my gentle friend,
That I am at the time of day
When white hair comes, and heart-beats send
No blushes through the cheeks astray.