Longfellow

Mezzo Cammin
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow






Half of my life is gone, and I have let 
   The years slip from me and have not fulfilled 
   The aspiration of my youth, to build 
   Some tower of song with lofty parapet. 
Not indolence, nor pleasure, nor the fret 
   Of restless passions that would not be stilled, 
   But sorrow, and a care that almost killed, 
   Kept me from what I may accomplish yet; 
Though, half-way up the hill, I see the Past 
   Lying beneath me with its sounds and sights,— 
   A city in the twilight dim and vast, 
With smoking roofs, soft bells, and gleaming lights,— 
   And hear above me on the autumnal blast 
   The cataract of Death far thundering from the heights.