( To Bert Stevens )

I read a song the other day that seemed to echo one of mine,
Of long ago and far away — on other coasts in Auld Lang Syne —
And yet the scene is just the same; and yet the Bush and yet the Range;
And yet the face and yet the name — but things are changed! O how they change!

We sought to learn and not to teach; we sung of then and long ago —
Bare-legged boys on Manly Beach of thirty years of age or so.
Our furthest cape was Middle Head, our furthest camp the Fairy Glen —
And two are camping with the Dead; and one has sailed the World since then.

And Ah, the Face! — and Ah, the Name! to you my friend I ne'er would tell:
She's dead; but they are still the same. ('Twas only I who knew them well.)
And I sailed back, from silent war with many things, to find you here
Established as my Editor! with solemn face and pen severe!

Do you remember? Never mind, we'll sweep the middle-past away;
And many things we left behind shall yet come back to us some day.
Old friends are still within our reach, and summer times when we shall know
Bare-legged days on Manly Beach at fifty years of age or so.