Foliage: Various Poems

MY YOUTH

     My youth was my old age,
         Weary and long;
     It had too many cares
         To think of song;
     My moulting days all came
         When I was young.

     Now, in life's prime, my soul
         Comes out in flower;
     Late, as with Robin, comes
         My singing power;

         Till this late hour.