The Old Road to Paradise/To a Young Girl at a Window

by Margaret Widdemer

TO A YOUNG GIRL AT A WINDOW

The Poor Old Soul plods down the street,
 Contented, and forgetting
How Youth was wild, and Spring was wild
 And how her life is setting;

And you lean out to watch her there,
 And pity, nor remember,
That Youth is hard, and Life is hard,
 And quiet is December.