Classic Poem

Spring flowers, spring flowers, for life's young hours
Of budding promise, thriving powers;
When youth's warm heart with heaven-born reason
Unfolds like flowers that know their season.

Full corn, full corn, let that adorn
The manly hours beyond the morn;
The time was long, but now the reaping,
And time stays yet before the sleeping.

Blown leaves, blown leaves, brown autumn weaves
In garlands for the trophied sheaves;
Old triumphs through young lives are thrilling,
While dead leaves fall new buds are filling.

Bare boughs, bare boughs, let hope espouse
The dead bride-heart of broken vows;
Grim winter locks the life-tide fast,
Till breaks the new far dawn at last.