MEMORY
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hen I was young my heart and head were light,And I was gay and feckless as a coltOut in the fields, with morning in the may,Wind on the grass, wings in the orchard bloom.O thrilling sweet, my joy, when life was free,And all the paths led on from hawthorn-timeAcross the carolling meadows into June. But now my heart is heavy-laden. I sitBurning my dreams away beside the fire:For death has made me wise and bitter and strong;And I am rich in all that I have lost.O starshine on the fields of long-ago,Bring me the darkness and the nightingale;Dim wealds of vanished summer, peace of home,And silence; and the faces of my friends.
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