Classic Poem

When I was young, my joy was wild,
How often it was shown!
But now, how slight a thing it seems,
And none of it my own.

When I was young, I knew no grief
Could be as great as mine,
But now...how light the burden lifts
And even dares to shine.

Now do I hang upon a hill,
By One not denied,
And through the dazzle peer at him
Upon the other side.