As years advance upon mortal age

How do I wish that now my glass would lie;

Still I do feel a youth upon life’s stage—

Though silver in my beard such truth may try;

The body weathers swifter than the mind

Though few upon their youthful style shall dwell,

And through their children, live a second time;

In second joys where aged hearts may swell.

The time is long and yet the life is short,

One day a child, the next a grey-haired man;

The second riddle in the Sphinx’s court

Where one begets the next in endless span.

I search the mirror and find my father’s face—

Time-worn, he smiles—no shame upon his face.