The ages roll Forward; and forward with them draw my soul Into Times infinite sea. And to be glad or sad I care no more; But to have done and to have been before I cease to do and be!
Tying her bonnet under her chin, She tied her raven ringlets in; But not alone in the silken snare Did she catch her lovely floating hair, For, tying her bonnet under her chin, She tied a young mans heart within.
They sat and combed their beautiful hair, Their long, bright tresses, one by one, As they laughed and talked in the chamber there, After the revel was done.
You are old, Father William, the young man said, And your hair has become very white; And yet you incessantly stand on your head Do you think, at your age, it is right?