page: 61
A RETROSPECT
- O GOOD old days of highwaymen,
- Of outlaws hid in moor and fen,
- Of elf or goblin in the glen,
- When dragons crawled and men were men!
- How sad it is to sit and know
- That we can never backwards go!
- Time in its solemn even flow
- Forgets the arrow and the bow—
- Forgets the days of sword and shield—
- How one would rather die than yield,
- At tourneys how the trumpets pealed,
- And horse and rider plunged and reeled. . . .
- The moonlight still is pale and wan,
- The same sun shines that’s always shone,
- Yet all these things are past and gone,
- And won’t come back for thinking on.
