Classic Poem

I

Through a shining portal springs a youth to grasp his kingdom fair,
With a smile of fond assurance — careless, blithe and debonair;
'Tis a heritage of gladness that he rapturously claims,
And his joy-bejewelled sceptre just before him brightly flames.

II

One who early plucked life's fruitage — thro' its rosy surface tore;
To whose trembling lip still clings the dust left by the ashen core;
One who longed and lost — a sad, stern man — chokes down a bitter sob
As he slowly passes through a door that has no outer knob.