JOY.
Gray strength of years!
Whereon so many a bark is wrecked;
And even success
Falls blank and passionless;
This morn has decked
Your front with trailing loveliness,
And branching lights;
Inlets of summer from celestial heights,
Whereon so many a bark is wrecked;
And even success
Falls blank and passionless;
This morn has decked
Your front with trailing loveliness,
And branching lights;
Inlets of summer from celestial heights,
Dimpling with light, beneath the long arcades,
The shadows smile in sleep:
And all those forces manifold that keep
Such infantine, calm play,
The shadows smile in sleep:
And all those forces manifold that keep
Such infantine, calm play,