FOND Youth and Age met face to face,
And each the other doubted sore.
Age mourned: "Your follies grow apace
More dangerous than of yore.
"Old standards trampled in the dust,
Where you are wending who can tell?"
Youth, wondering, smiled, at his distrust,
And answered: "Nay; all's well!—
"Your day gone by, why fear that I
Shall lack the strength for mine own hour?
Each new demand of destiny
Brings with it a new power.
"For you the past: for me the Now—
The wonder-working Now divine!
A weight too heavy for your brow
The Fates transfer to mine."
Age, out of heart, impatient, sighed:—
"I ask what will the Future be?"
Youth laughed contentedly, and cried:—
"The future leave to me!"