The Burden of Age

There is a dancing in the morning beams, There is a rainbow sown amid the dew, There is a glint of gold shot through the sands, A molten sapphire in the mountains' hue, And Hope down comes with all her singing bands. Nay, nay, it is not so; 'twas long ago! There was a dancing in the morning beams: Ah, how the years exile us into dreams! There is a glamour in the moon's white gleams, There is the touch that charmed Endymion's eyes, A spirit mounting from the clod and stone, A spirit bending from the bending skies- And Love in midst of all sets up his throne! Nay, nay, it is not so; 'twas long ago! There was a glamour in the moon's white gleams: Ah, how the years exile us into dreams! There is a wonder-light on woodland streams, A murmur in the green o'erhanging boughs, A rustle in the fronded ranks of fern- And, lo! the Muse with rapt enwreathèd brows, And eyes that seen and unseen things discern! Nay, nay, it is not so; 'twas long ago! There was a wonder-light on woodland streams: Ah, how the years exile us into dreams! Some other world, perchance, our loss redeems- Light to dead eyes and speech to lips all dumb Brings back- brings us and ours from banishment! So may our dreams a living joy become; But here all things that are, without doubt are blent, Within the mists that blow from long ago! Some other world, not this, our loss redeems: Ah, how the years exile us into dreams!