I dreamed that I was old: in stale declension <br />Fallen from my prime, when company <br />Was mine, cat-nimbleness, and green invention, <br />Before time took my leafy hours away. <br /> <br />My wisdom, ripe with body’s ruin, found <br />Itself tart recompense for what was lost <br />In false exchange: since wisdom in the ground <br />Has no apocalypse or pentecost. <br /> <br />I wept for my youth, sweet passionate young thought, <br />And cozy women dead that by my side <br />Once lay: I wept with bitter longing, not <br />Remembering how in my youth I cried.<br /><br />Stanley Kunitz<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-dreamed-that-i-was-old/
