The Old Love Living Yet

Poem

There are some things still in this life of ours
The years weed not away,
But reverse the fate of dying flowers,
And bloom but in decay.
So I look back through the many years
Whose suns have long since set,
And feel, like the coming up of tears,
The old love living yet.

O the heart will wither up, when youth
Withdraws its fleeting light,
And think no more with the same sweet truth
That fed it day and night;
But amid the wreck of all we see,
And the cares that come and fret,
It will keep a bud from the blighted tree
Of the old love living yet.

There gathers still, like a mighty thought,
Around that magic name,
All the beating of a heart that brought
Its strength to one sweet aim;
And the flush and warmth of those early dreams--
Ah, what heart could e'er forget!
Will waken up like the sun's first beams
At the old love living yet.

So I think, as a dying light is toss'd
From the gladness seen behind,
That whatever we in our youth have lost
But models the future mind;
And I weep as I think how my hopes may fall
Like the leaves when the winds are met,
And leave in my heart a scorn for all
Save the old love living yet.

Love

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