ARS LONGA 



A SONG OF PILGRIMAGE 



Our hopes are wild imaginings, 



Our schemes are airy castles, 

 Yet these, on earth, are lords and kings, 



And we their slaves and vassals ; 

 Your dream, forsooth, of buoyant youth, 



Most ready to deceive is, 

 But age will own the bitter truth, 



'' Ars longa, vita brevis.'' 



The hill of life with eager feet 



We climb'd in merry morning. 

 But on the downward track we meet 



The shades of twilight, warning ; 

 The shadows gaunt they fall aslant ; 



And those who scaled Ben Nevis, 

 Against the mole-hills toil and pant, 



'* Ars longa, vita brevisJ' 



The obstacles that barr'd our path 



We seldom quail'd to dash on 



In youth, for youth one motto hath, 



"The will, the way must fashion." 

 107 



