belong to what is called advanced civilisation are impatient of
these things except as rude relics of yet untutored minds; and
the pleasure with which they are accepted has in it perhaps a
grain of pity for those that didn't know better than produce
them. Yet, as regards mere poetical feeling at least, the nearer
the fountainhead the purer the water.]


IV.

And is not youth, thought I, a vulgar thing,
When lording over WISDOM'S ancient reign?
What may avail the brilliancy of spring
If autumn yields no hoards of garnered grain?
Experience is the daughter of old Time,
Mother of Wisdom, last and noblest born,
Who comes as Faith to help our waning prime,
To cheer the night of age and light the morn.

I sought at eve the castle on the height,
The ancient halls of lordly Ravenslee,
Oh! contrast great! gay scene of youth's delight--
The spinette, galliard, mirth's galaverie!
I thought upon the couple in the wood,
And how that singing, dancing, laughing train
Would one day sigh in Time's avenging mood,
"Alas! for youth's green summer time again."