“Their Summer’s Stroll“
Their summer’s stroll from rage to rage,
And they beget a bygone slight that as a child
Was not forgot, that from a strength were mild
But grew in time from childhood though to age.
And far beyond its slotted term their lights boil freely
Within a goal not steeped in wisdom’s nests
But gnarl’d, mishap’t to suit some moment’s tests
In fruitlessness, and doom’d because t’were seemly
That a child should bargain with his fathers’ sight
Nor rent a sire’s station for such gifts’
Revisions as rest in infants’ yearnings for the stars
Or worse, the adolescents’ endless swollen charms.
Do not tempt the agèd with a young man’s goal,
My friend, nor mistake a stallion for his honoured foal.