Labuntur Anni
N OVEMBER 25, 1900
I know a spot within the wood, where scarce the brake is stirred
By track of wing or furry foot, and rarely sings the bird:
The air is still; the springs are low; and in the glimmering light
Hang undisturbed the autumn leaves, and wait the winter's night.
Yet, friend, when in my heart I look, the leaves are green in spring;
The sunlight warms; the streamlets dance; and chants each winged thing;
And all the wood with life is filled, as in the joyous prime
When we were young — Ah, miracle of memory and time
I know a spot within the wood, where scarce the brake is stirred
By track of wing or furry foot, and rarely sings the bird:
The air is still; the springs are low; and in the glimmering light
Hang undisturbed the autumn leaves, and wait the winter's night.
Yet, friend, when in my heart I look, the leaves are green in spring;
The sunlight warms; the streamlets dance; and chants each winged thing;
And all the wood with life is filled, as in the joyous prime
When we were young — Ah, miracle of memory and time
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