Dear Friend, once, in a dream, I, looking o'er <br />The Past, saw the Four Seasons slow advance <br />Dancing, and, dancing, each her cognizance <br />So gave and took that neither dancer bore <br />Her sign, but in another's symbol wore <br />An amulet to lessen or enhance <br />Herself: till as they fast and faster dance <br />I see a dance and lose the dancing four. <br />Thus thy dear Poet, at his sportive will, <br />Commingling every seasonable mood <br />Of old and young, and the peculiar ill <br />Of each still healing with the other's good, <br />Bends to a circle life's proverbial span <br />Where childhood, youth, and age are unity in man.<br /><br />Sydney Thompson Dobell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-mrs-j-s-blackie/
