Old-Fashioned Child.

He was born old; they who got him were grey, And quaint as things that long had seasoned here When that he came — a too true vintage of The lateness of the brewing blood and brain; Even as in their whims and ways he had Existed, an imaginary thing, Twin-lived in him and her e'en long before They were united in the dream of love. And therefore comes it that his young life wears So old a countenance, that he in sooth Is so too grown-up in his ways and whims; Unlike the youngling of an early pair, Who's ta'en the freshness of their favour on, And is as frisky as the youth of love.