For Old Sake's Sake!

A poem by Henry Austin Dobson

"For old sake's sake!" 'Twere hard to choose
Words fitter for an old-world Muse
Than these, that in their cadence bring
Faint fragrance of the posy-ring,
And charms that rustic lovers use.

The long day lengthens, and we lose
The first pale flush, the morning hues,--
Ah! but the back-look, lingering,
For old sake's sake!

That we retain. Though Time refuse
To lift the veil on forward views,
Despot in most, he is not King
Of those kind memories that cling
Around his travelled avenues
For old sake's sake!

"Qui n'a pas l'esprit de son âge
De son âge a tout le malheur."

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