"What Can An Old Man Do But Die?" 389 The mirth none shares. Yet could a wish, a thought, Could all the characters that Time hath wrought Be clean effaced from my memorial page By one short word, the word I would not say;- Hartley Coleridge [1796-1849] "WHAT CAN AN OLD MAN DO BUT DIE?" SPRING it is cheery, Winter is dreary, Green leaves hang, but the brown must fly; When he's forsaken, Withered and shaken, What can an old man do but die? Love will not clip him, Maids will not lip him, Maud and Marian pass him by; Youth it is sunny, Age has no honey,— What can an old man do but die? June it was jolly, O for its folly! A dancing leg and a laughing eye! Youth may be silly, Wisdom is chilly, What can an old man do but die? Friends they are scanty, If he has followers, I know why; Gold's in his clutches (Buying him crutches!)- What can an old man do but die? Thomas Hood [1799-1845] OLD JANE I LOVE old women best, I think: Old Jane, who totters on the brink Of God's Eternity; Whose limbs are stiff, whose cheek is lean, Whose eyes look up, afraid; Though you may gather she has been A little laughing maid. Once had she with her doll what times, Her head was full of lovers' rhymes, At corner of the gusty street, Her smile is as the litten West, Of memories far-away: Her look has not a hint in it Of what she sees to-day. Thomas Ashe [1836-1889] THE WORLD I AM PASSING THROUGH FEW, in the days of early youth, Trusted like me in love and truth. I've learned sad lessons from the years; But slowly, and with many tears; For God made me to kindly view The world that I was passing through. The World I Am Passing Through 391 How little did I once believe That friendly tones could e'er deceive! I could not help but kindly view And though I've learned some souls are base, Through weary conflicts I have passed, From all that fate has brought to me And trust in Him who rules above, Thus only can I kindly view The world that I am passing through. When I approach the setting sun, And all who tempt a trusting heart God help us all to kindly view The world that we are passing through! Lydia Maria Child [1802-1880] TERMINUS It is time to be old, To take in sail: The god of bounds, Who sets to seas a shore, Came to me in his fatal rounds, And said: "No more! No farther shoot Thy broad ambitious branches, and thy root. Fancy departs: no more invent; Contract thy firmament To compass of a tent. There's not enough for this and that, Make thy option which of two; Economize the failing river, Not the less revere the Giver, Leave the many and hold the few. Still plan and smile, And,--fault of novel germs,— Bad husbands of their fires, Who, when they gave thee breath, Failed to bequeath The needful sinew stark as once, The Baresark marrow to thy bones, But left a legacy of ebbing veins, Inconstant heat and nerveless reins,Amid the Muses, left thee deaf and dumb, Amid the Gladiators, halt and numb." As the bird trims her to the gale, I man the rudder, reef the sail, Rabbi Ben Ezra 393 "Lowly faithful, banish fear, Right onward drive unharmed; The port, well worth the cruise, is near, And every wave is charmed." Ralph Waldo Emerson [1803-1882] RABBI BEN EZRA GROW old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made: Our times are in his hand Who saith "A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!" Not that, amassing flowers, Youth sighed, "Which rose make ours, Which lily leave and then as best recall?” Not that, admiring stars, It yearned, "Nor Jove, nor Mars; Mine be some figured flame which blends, transcends them all!" Not for such hopes and fears Do I remonstrate: folly wide the mark! Rather I prize the doubt Low kinds exist without, Poor vaunt of life indeed, Were man but formed to feed On joy, to solely seek and find and feast: Such feasting ended, then As sure an end to men; Irks care the crop-full bird? Frets doubt the maw-crammed beast? Rejoice we are allied To that which doth provide |