THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH.
BT JAMBS NETHERBY.
'Twas a beautiful dream of the ancient time, Of the wondrous minds of old j That fountain that could renew the prime, The beauty, the purple light sublime, That deifies mortal mould. But, alas I though fresh as the dewy dawn The lov'd one's form may be ; And though crowned with such light as might have shove From the brow which had through the stream pasted on To immortality ; Yet it blooms and dies, with sure decay, For there's nought so sure as change ; Aye, mortal 1 thy spirit is flitting away As thou pond'rest the riddle of thy short day, With thy reason's shorter runue. But the poets, who lived, and hoped, and dreamed, In that old time, long ago, 'Neath the myth of the fountain may have dpemed It a water of life, for its baptism seemed Of a higher life to «how. And this toiling, travailing world still clings, In each round, to this self-same truth ; And each pulsation brings better thingsMore yearning for swift, earth-spurning wings, And the crown of immortal youth.
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Bibliographic details
Evening Post, Issue 230, 2 November 1865, Page 2
Word Count
183THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH. Evening Post, Issue 230, 2 November 1865, Page 2
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