Poems (Allen)/The Way to Youth

by Elizabeth Chase Allen

THE WAY TO YOUTH.

HEN Grace and Beauty are left behind,
And Time and Change are no longer kind,
And hands wax nerveless, and eyes grow blind,
How sweet and pleasant it is to find
    The way to Immortal Youth!

O, how blessed to fling away
These tell-tale symbols of dull decay,—
The hair which barters its gold for gray,
The limbs which falter from day to day,—
    And follow the way to Youth!

Travelled by many, and trodden well,—
Quiet, and bordered with asphodel;
And at the ending,—ah, who may tell
The happy story of those who dwell
    In perfect and deathless Youth

Their faded faces grow young and fair,—
The smile returns that they used to Wear;
Their brows remember no line of care,
And the gold comes back to their brightened hair,
    In the realm of deathless Youth.

The door is narrow,—the arch is low,
And up to the keystone the violets grow,
And the dead leaves drift, and the snow-falls blow;—
But little they heed or care, who go
    In search of Immortal Youth.

No sentinel guards it with stern command,
But under its shadow the angels stand
Waiting to clasp the pilgrim's hand,
And lead him into the Morning Land,
    The Land of Immortal Youth.