You too have seen the sun a bird of fire
Stepping on clouds across the golden sky,
Have known man’s envy and his weak disire,
Have loved and lost.
You, who are old, have loved and lost as I
All that is beautiful but born to die,
Have traced your patterns in the hastening frost.
And you have walked up in the hills at night,
And bared your head beneath the living sky,
When it was noon have walked into the light,
Knowing such joy as I.
Though there are years between us, they are naught
Youth calls to age across the tired years:’What have you found,’ he cries, ‘what have you sought?’
‘What you have found,’ age answers through his tears,
‘What you have sought’