| AS ONE OLDSTER TO ANOTHER Well, yes the old bones ache. There were easier Beds thirty years back. Sleep, then importunate, Now with reserve doles out her favours; Food disagrees; there are draughts in houses. Headlong, the down night train rushes on with us, Screams through the stations…how many more? Is it Time soon to think of taking down one's Case from the rack? Are we nearly there now? Yet neither loss of friends, nor an emptying Future, nor England tamed and the ruin of Long-builded hopes thus far have taught my Obstinate heart a sedate deportment. Still beauty calls as once in the mazes of Boyhood. The bird-like soul quivers. Into her Flash darts of unfulfill'd desire and Pierce with a bright, unabated anguish. Armed thus with anguish, joy met us even in Youth—who forgets? This side of the terminus, Then, now, and always, thus, and only Thus, were the doors of delight set open. From Poems
Poems. Copyright © 1964 by C. S. Lewis Pte. Ltd. Preface copyright © 1964 by Walter Hooper. All rights reserved. Used with permission of HarperCollins Publishers. | 
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