And art thou he, now 'fallen on evil days,' <br />And changed indeed! Yet what do this sunk cheek, <br />These thinner locks, and that calm forehead speak! <br />A spirit reckless of man's blame or praise,- <br />A spirit, when thine eyes to the noon's blaze <br />Their dark orbs roll in vain, in suffering meek, <br />As in the sight of God intent to seek, <br />Mid solitude or age, or through the ways <br />Of hard adversity, the approving look <br />Of its great Master; whilst the conscious pride <br />Of wisdom, patient and content to brook <br />All ills to that sole Master's task applied, <br />Shall show before high heaven the unaltered mind, <br />Milton, though thou art poor, and old, and blind!<br /><br />William Lisle Bowles<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-age-3/
