[3] Memory
When I was young and my heart and
head were light,
And I was gay and feckless as a colt
Out in the fields, with morning in the May,
Wind on the grass, wings in the orchard bloom.
O thrilling sweet, my joy, when life was free
And all the paths led on from hawthorn-time
Across the carolling meadows into June
But now my heart is heavy-laden. I sit
Burning my dreams away beside the fire
For death has made me wise and bitter and strong
And I am rich in all that I have lost.
I sunshine on the fields of long-ago
Bring me the darkness and the nightingale;
Dim wealds of vanished summer, peace of home
And silence, and the faces of my friends.