Thoughtful in youth, but not austere in age; <br />Calm, but not cold, and cheerful though a sage; <br />Too true to flatter and too kind to sneer, <br />And only just when seemingly severe; <br />So gently blending courtesy and art <br />That wisdom’s lips seemed borrowing friendship’s heart. <br /> <br />Taught by the sorrows that his age had known <br />In others’ trials to forget his own, <br />As hour by hour his lengthened day declined, <br />A sweeter radiance lingered o’er his mind. <br />Cold were the lips that spoke his early praise, <br />And hushed the voices of his morning days, <br />Yet the same accents dwelt on every tongue, <br />And love renewing kept him ever young.<br /><br />Oliver Wendell Holmes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-portrait-7/
