The Poetry Corner

Sixty to Sixteen

By Victor James Daley

If I were young as you, Sixteen, And you were old as I, I would not be as I have been, You would not be so shy, We should not watch with careless mien The golden days go by, If I were young as you, Sixteen, And you were old as I. The years of youth are yours, Sixteen; Such years of old had I, But time has set his seal between Dark eyebrow and dark eye. Sere grow the leaves that once were green, The song turns to a sigh: Ah! very young are you, Sixteen, And very old am I. Red bloom-times come and go, Sixteen, With snow-soft feet, but I Shall be no more as I have been In times of bloom gone by; For dimmer grows the pleasant scene Beneath the pleasant sky; The world is growing old, Sixteen, The weary world and I. Ah, would that once again, Sixteen, A kissing mouth had I; The days would gaily go, I ween, Though death should stand anigh, If springtimes green were evergreen, If Love would never die, And I were young as you, Sixteen, And you were old as I.