Lays and legends Part 16

Will hearts grown old forget their youth?

And hands grown old give up the strife?

Shall we accept as ordered truth The dismal anarchy of life?

Better die now--at once be free Of hope and fear--renounce the whole: For of what worth would living be Should one--grown old--outlive one's soul?

Yet see: through curtains closely drawn Creeps in the exorcising light; The sacred fingers of the dawn Put all my troop of ghosts to flight.

And then I hear the brave Sun's voice, Though still the skies are gray and dim: "Old age comes never--Oh, rejoice-- Except to those who beckon him.

"All that youth's dreams are nourished by, By that shall dreams in age be fed-- Thy n.o.ble dreams can never die Until thyself shall wish them dead!"