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A VISION OF YOUTH
Erect the rider sat awhile
With flashing eyes, and then
Turned slowly, sighing, with a smile,
“O weary world of men!”
For aye the Bird of Fantasy
Sang magic songs to him,
And deep and deeper still rode he
Into the Forest Dim.
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That rider with his face aglow
With joy of life I see
In dreams. Ah, years and years ago
He parted ways with me!
Yet, sometimes, when the days are drear
And all the world forlorn,
From out the dim wood's heart I hear
The echo of his horn.
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