the poem as
an MP3 file.
So may your silver years pass pleasantly,
Even as you rest beside the river.
Vanities are gone, ambitions,
Evanescent as night's vanished
Nor need you be as prodigal a giver.
There is much that now will never be,
Yet what is, is more alive than ever.
The current hurries by; the tall grass
With creatures, each intent on some
Old memories float like white sails out