Age / Richard Garnett

Sonnet

I will not rail, or grieve when torpid eld
     Frosts the slow-journeying blood, for I shall see
     The lovelier leaves hang yellow on the tree,
The nimbler brooks in icy fetters held.
Methinks the aged eye, that first beheld
     The fitful ravage of December wild,
     Then knew himself indeed dear Nature’s child,
Seeing the common doom, that all compell’d.
No kindred we to her beloved broods,
     If, dying these, we drew a selfish breath;
But one path travel all her multitudes,
     And none dispute the solemn Voice that saith:
“Sun, to thy setting; to your autumn, woods;
     Stream, to thy sea; and man, unto thy death!”

~~
Richard Garnett (1835-1906)
from Io in Egypt, and other poems, 1859

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

Richard Garnett biography