Pebbles and Shells (Hawkes collection)/Amplius

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AMPLIUS
Sweet banished years of joy and youth,
Of twenty-five this is the last;
I cannot weave its fragile woof,
That day is done, that die is cast.

I cannot summon childhood days
And blend them with thy coming years,
Or place its coronet of flowers
Upon a brow that smiles through tears.

I cannot pierce those distant days
That ne'er have seen the tide of time
And sing a prophet's wondrous lays,
I only know a poet's rhyme.

This day God gives thee something grand,
A life of action and of power,
A throbbing heart, a willing hand,
A noble art, a fleeting hour.

Let every year that marks thy life
Be filled with noble actions done,
Let every effort in the strife
But nerve thee for a greater one.

Fight bravely onward unto death
And thou shalt yet be known of kings,
Let every heart beat, every breath,
But lift thee up to higher things;

Then when thou lay'st thine armor down,
Amid the battle's dust and heat,
Thou shalt receive a golden crown,
A scepter and a regent's seat.