The Unnamed Lake and Other Poems

by Frederick George Scott




WITH child-faith dead, and youth-dreams gone like mist,
    We stand, at noon, beneath the blazing sun
    Upon life’s dusty road, our course half done.
No more we stray through the woods where birds hold tryst,
Nor over mountains which the dawn hath kissed;
    In glare and heat the race must now be run
    On this bank plain, while round us, one by one,
Our friends drop out and urge us to desist.

Then from the brazen sky rings out a voice,
“Faint not, strong souls, quit you like men, rejoice,

That now like men ye bear the stress and strain,
    With eyes unbound seeing life’s naked truth.
Gird up your loins, press on with might and main,
    And taste a richer wine than that of youth.”