But where the sunbeams had found their way,

In glittering, crystal drops it lay;

And fallen leaves at his feet were strewn,

Yellow and wet, over turf and stone.

He sat and dreamed, as the agèd do,

While, drifting backward, he lived anew

The years that never again should be.

A placid dream—for his soul was free

From all the troubles of long ago,

The doubts, the conflict he used to know!

Doubts of himself, and a contest grim

With evil spirits that strove for him.

Now all was over; that troubled day

Was like a storm that had passed away.

It seemed to him that his voyage was o'er;

His ship already had touched the shore.

Yet once he sighed; for he knew that he

Was not the man he had hoped to be,

And, looking back on his journey past,

He felt—what all of us feel at last!

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