When I was young I feared my growing old
lest, being old, I should want youth again,
or lest the growing old should cause me pain;
I knew the worth of silver less than gold.
I tried to hold the sun and not the moon,
I asked the clock to stop-- it paid no heed!
Time blew away like dandelion seed,
as sure as day, the evening came too soon.
   This road I cannot tread the other way.
   The ages passed, and age has come to me.
   Yet still asleep I dream, awake I see,
   as sure as day brings night, the night brings day,
youth, sun and dandelion seed, and why?
They cannot have new life unless they die.