POEMS
359
Now chiefly is my natal hour,
And only now my prime of life;
Of manhood's strength it is the flower,
'T is peace's end, and war's beginning strife.
It comes in summer's broadest noon,
By a gray wall, or some chance place,
Unseasoning time, insulting June,
And vexing day with its presuming face.
I will not doubt the love untold,
Which not my worth nor want hath bought,
Which wooed me young, and wooes me old,
And to this evening hath me brought.
PILGRIMS
"Have you not seen,
In ancient times,
Pilgrims pass by
Toward other climes,
With shining faces,
Youthful and strong,
Mounting this hill
With speech and with song?"
"Ah, my good sir,
I know not those ways:
