His hair lit up the teashop like a fire,
The naked flame of youth made manifest —
Young hunger's unappeasable desire
Devouring cakes and cream with reckless zest:

While, cheek by jowl, an old man, bald and blind
And peaked and withered as a waning moon,
With toothless mumbling gums and wandering mind,
Supped barley-water from a tremulous spoon.

I turned a moment, and the man was gone;
And as I looked upon the red-haired boy
About him in a blinding glory shone
The Sons of Morning singing together for joy.