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Gilbert Keith Chesterton - A Second Childhood
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When all my days are ending
    And I have no song to sing,
    I think I shall not be too old
    To stare at everything;
    As I stared once at a nursery door
    Or a tall tree and a swing.

    Wherein God`s ponderous mercy hangs
    On all my sins and me,
    Because He does not take away
    The terror from the tree
    And stones still shine along the road
    That are and cannot be.

    Men grow too old for love, my love,
    Men grow too old for wine,
    But I shall not grow too old to see
    Unearthly daylight shine,
    Changing my chamber`s dust to snow
    Till I doubt if it be mine.

    Behold, the crowning mercies melt,
    The first surprises stay;
    And in my dross is dropped a gift
    For which I dare not pray:
    That a man grow used to grief and joy
    But not to night and day.

    Men grow too old for love, my love,
    Men grow too old for lies;
    But I shall not grow too old to see
    Enormous night arise,
    A cloud that is larger than the world
    And a monster made of eyes.

    Nor am I worthy to unloose
    The latchet of my shoe;
    Or shake the dust from off my feet
    Or the staff that bears me through
    On ground that is too good to last,
    Too solid to be true.

    Men grow too old to woo, my love,
    Men grow too old to wed:
    But I shall not grow too old to see
    Hung crazily overhead
    Incredible rafters when I wake
    And find I am not dead.

    A thrill of thunder in my hair:
    Though blackening clouds be plain,
    Still I am stung and startled
    By the first drop of the rain:
    Romance and pride and passion pass
    And these are what remain.

    Strange crawling carpets of the grass,
    Wide windows of the sky:
    So in this perilous grace of God
    With all my sins go I:
    And things grow new though I grow old,
    Though I grow old and die.
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