How Bravely Now I Face The Marching Days

How bravely now I face the marching days,
With Youth's strong armor to defy the years!
Nought now I know of the sharp sting of tears,
Nor of the bleak and solitary ways
Where Sorrow calls her children. Nought dismays
My April spirit; and the night appears
Like some far-distant prospect without tears.
Youth, youth is mine, and youth's strong, fearless gaze.
But when the twilight shall at last abide,
And I have neared the shadowy bourne and vast,
How will it be? ... Shall the night overcast
My soul, and shall my sword have softly sighed
Back to its scabbard? ... Nay, when Youth has died,
Old Age shall take me tenderly at last.

by Charles Hanson Towne

Other poems of CHARLES HANSON TOWNE (106)

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