The Late Years
Ask what in winter nights
Will offer consolation
What truth will point to light
And finished revelation?
Shall all the search for truth
End fast to smartly find
Our wasted weary sleuth
Left what was best behind?
Thus, such the ravages of thought
As decades fly before the eyes
That what was once so wisely sought
Is now so sadly minimized
The summary of a sorry story
Does seldom break in righteous glory