[Lyric] After Many Years (Chambers Baird)

Old Age! I harbor thee a welcome guest:
Thou mad'st me sage, if aught I am, and skilled
To learn life's broadest arts. No more I build
Vain temples by forgetful Fame unblest,
Nor madly brave some luring phantom-quest.
I count no fretting hopes yet unfulfilled;
But know, with passionate youth's wild tremor stilled,
The lulling cadences of pulseless rest.
The tide of time flows on, still as a dream,
Its margin crowned with calm and presage-spanned.
The years enrich me, as a silt-fraught stream,
Laden with opulent spoil from many a field,
Gilds with its golden hoard some mellow strand.
Ah, would this lustrum might full fruitage yield!