To Mrs. J.S. Blackie

Dear Friend, once, in a dream, I, looking o'er The Past, saw the Four Seasons slow advance Dancing, and, dancing, each her cognizance So gave and took that neither dancer bore Her sign, but in another's symbol wore An amulet to lessen or enhance Herself: till as they fast and faster dance I see a dance and lose the dancing four. Thus thy dear Poet, at his sportive will, Commingling every seasonable mood Of old and young, and the peculiar ill Of each still healing with the other's good, Bends to a circle life's proverbial span Where childhood, youth, and age are unity in man.