And I was very glad.
Oh the madness of youth and song and dance and wine,
Of woman's eyes and lips, when the night dies in the arms of dawn!
And now I wish I had not gone that way.
Now I wish I had not heard them say,
'He is a sport, a good sport!'
For I am old who should be young.
The splendid vigour of my youth I flung
Under the feet of a mad, unthinking throng.
My strength went out with wine and dance and song;
Unto the winds of earth I tossed like chaff,
With idle jest and laugh,
The pride of splendid manhood, all its wealth
Of unused power and health -
Its dream of looking into some pure girl's eyes
And finding there its earthly paradise -
Its hope of virile children free from blight -
Its thoughts of climbing to some noble height
Of great achievement--all these gifts divine
I cast away for song and dance and wine.
Oh, I have been a sport, a good sport;
But I am very sad.
A SON SPEAKS
Mother, sit down, for I have much to say
Anent this widespread ever-growing theme
Of woman and her virtues and her rights.
I left you for the large, loud world of men,
When I had lived one little score of years.
I judged all women by you, and my heart
Was filled with high esteem and reverence
For your angelic sex; and for the wives,
The sisters, daughters, mothers of my friends
I held but holy thoughts.
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