TO J. R. LOWELL <br /> <br />WE will not speak of years to-night,-- <br />For what have years to bring <br />But larger floods of love and light, <br />And sweeter songs to sing? <br /> <br />We will not drown in wordy praise <br />The kindly thoughts that rise; <br />If Friendship own one tender phrase, <br />He reads it in our eyes. <br /> <br />We need not waste our school-boy art <br />To gild this notch of Time;-- <br />Forgive me if my wayward heart <br />Has throbbed in artless rhyme. <br /> <br />Enough for him the silent grasp <br />That knits us hand in hand, <br />And he the bracelet's radiant clasp <br />That locks our circling band. <br /> <br />Strength to his hours of manly toil! <br />Peace to his starlit dreams! <br />Who loves alike the furrowed soil, <br />The music-haunted streams! <br /> <br />Sweet smiles to keep forever bright <br />The sunshine on his lips, <br />And faith that sees the ring of light <br />Round nature's last eclipse! <br /> <br />February 22, 1859.<br /><br />Oliver Wendell Holmes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-a-birthday-festival/
