And knows a hand hath turned the team astray. He hath no pity. For the new-made Bride, ENVOY. YOUTH, for whose ear and monishing of late, I sang of Prodigals and lost estate, Have thou thy joy of living and be gay; But know not less that there must come a day,- When thine own heart shall speak to thee and say,- When Finis comes, the Book we close, With backward step, from stage to stage ... There is so much that no one knows, So much un-reached that none suppose; What flaws! what faults!-on every page, When Finis comes. Still, they must pass! The swift Tide flows. Though not for all the laurel grows, Perchance, in this be-slandered age, The worker, mainly, wins his wage;— And Time will sweep both friends and foes When FINIS comes! |