“Veritatem dies aperit.” ~ Seneca
The young man’s prayer at the dawn of the day
Is the old man’s prayer in the night.
The crying of joy, the song of delight,
Are the sorrows and tears of a life.
What are the tears at the end of an age,
And what are the sorrows of time
Beside the light that goes on through the dark
And burns all the brighter at night.
The dawn of day is a splendid thing,
A candle’s light in the dark.
But the men of old with their silver eyes
Go bravely into the night.
The song that once was wild and free,
And flew in the face of God
Is come to earth and burns in the heart
Of wisdom and courage and life.
The brightest of lights at the end of the day
Will burn into nothing but ash.
But the silver hearts of the men of the night
Will lead the path to the fray.
The song they sing will go on through the age
And light up the passage of time
Until it rests in the song of the young
And the hope of a new, brighter day.
