" Bear lightly on their foreheads, Tirae 

 Strew roses on their way ; 

 The young in heart, however old, 

 That prize the present day. 



" I lore to see a man forget 



His blood is growing eold, 



And leap, or s'n'im, or gather flowers, 

 Olilivious of his gold. 



And mix with children in their sport. 

 Nor think that he is old. 



'■ I love to sec the man of care 



Take pleasure in a toy ; 



I lore to see him row or ride. 



And tread the grass mth joy. 

 Or throw the circling salmon fly 

 As lusty as a lioy. 



" The road of life is hard enough, 



Bestre^Ti with slag and thorn ; 



I would not mock the simplest joy 

 That made it less forlorn. 



But flu its evening path witli flowers. 

 As fresh as those of morn." 



