Ho! we were strong, we were swift, we were brave.

Youth was a challenge, and Life was a fight.

All that was best in us gladly we gave,

Sprang from the rally, and leapt for the height.

Smiling is Love in a foam of Spring flowers:

Harden our hearts to him—on let us press!

Oh, what a triumph and pride shall be ours!

See where it beacons, the star of success!

Cares seem to crowd on us—so much to do;

New fields to conquer, and time’s on the wing.

Grey hairs are showing, a wrinkle or two;

Somehow our footstep is losing its spring.

Pleasure’s forsaken us, Love ceased to smile;

Youth has been funeralled; Age travels fast.

Sometimes we wonder: is it worth while?

There! we have gained to the summit at last.

Aye, we have triumphed! Now must we haste,

Revel in victory … why! what is wrong?

Life’s choicest vintage is flat to the taste—

Are we too late? Have we laboured too long?

Wealth, power, fame we hold … ah! but the truth:

Would we not give this vain glory of ours

For one mad, glad year of glorious youth,

Life in the Springtide, and Love in the flowers.