Poems (Browning)/The Course of Years
The Course of Years
And thus these years have passed along, Each year a gladsome, vibrant song,A song replete with happy hours; Time's thorns are gone, we have the flowersOf all the joys of yesterday, And all the joys that are to be.Through all the years, though far from home, A mother's welcome whispers, "Come".Before us shines a dear one's face Girt round by every loving grace,O silvered splendor of your hair, With Moonlight's kisses tangled there.