Now stop and remember and dream;
far from cynicism when you were young .
Who told us with wide wonder
The stories of the age?
Lives stronger, kinder, better,
you lived long nights bold
In tales a master weaving
That held off your own needing
Tomes now are silent
That once kindled all delight
Mourn with me old joys passing
and a masters passing light
In your age was he forsaken?
Mocked with selfward spite.
Now you wear sardonic guises
ill fit that always hang like a lie
Slip off this veil; return my friend to me
Drink in joy, foolishness and sorrow
Hold the old master up with honor
Relive again lives he taught us to dream