Birthday poems/ page 10 of 16 /
WHAT lapse or accident of time
Can dull that soul's sonorous chime
Which owns the priceless heritage
Youth's summer warmth in wintry age?
Ode On The Death Of A Lady, Who Lived One Hundred Years, And Died On Her Birthday, 1728 (Translation
Ancient dame, how wide and vast
To a race like ours appears,
Rounded to an orb at last,
All thy multitude of years!
Whilst others give thee wondrous toys,
Or jewels rich and rare,
I bring but flowersmore meet are they
For one so young and fair.
It was fifty years ago
In the pleasant month of May,
In the beautiful Pays de Vaud,
A child in its cradle lay.