FROM the first gleam of morning to the gray <br />Of peaceful evening, lo, a life unrolled! <br />In woven pictures all its changes told, <br />Its lights, its shadows, every flitting ray, <br />Till the long curtain, falling, dims the day, <br />Steals from the dial's disk the sunlight's gold, <br />And all the graven hours grow dark and cold <br />Where late the glowing blaze of noontide lay. <br />Ah! the warm blood runs wild in youthful veins,-- <br />Let me no longer play with painted fire; <br />New songs for new-born days! I would not tire <br />The listening ears that wait for fresher strains <br />In phrase new-moulded, new-forged rhythmic chains, <br />With plaintive measures from a worn-out lyre.<br /><br />Oliver Wendell Holmes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rhymes-of-a-life-time/
